Hollow echoes of a ticking clock,
All moments lost in the fade of dusk.
Did we sit in gardens,
Beneath foreign stars?
Whispering silence,
Shadows touch fingertips, fading.
Once, a name.
Sometimes, a face.
Never, a plan.
Remember.
Waking up at noon,
Maple trees and forgotten songs.
The train departs,
A memory misplaced.
Empty platforms,
Echoes linger.