love · poems · Poetry · poets · Writing

Cold

Standing outside, watching the clouds pass by.

Remembering how much you’d like to gaze at them.

The cold, wintery air nips at me skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

You loved the cold.

It hasn’t snowed since you passed away.

But as I look up, I see a single solitary flake drifts lazily through the sky.

It falls gently onto my cheek and tears fill my eyes.

I know, somehow, that it’s you letting me know that you are still here.

I miss you.

-Kim V. Poetry

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