He took the high mountain trail,
Cloud covered pass ahead;
Mist enwrapped him as a shroud;
His steps grew silent
On the rocky steep.
He glanced back at me lagging,
I so young and he so old;
I could not keep the pace.
He moved like wind beyond my call;
I stood
reaching out alone.
Turning back without him chilled my soul,
Returning to a world left empty
Of his smile and touch.
The years can never dim his beaming face
In my tenacious memory.
Ah, memory, could I create from you
The flesh and blood I loved in life,
I'd vanquish death
In the drawing of a breath.