Poetry of place

This

What can I write that this image and Opus 35 say when it is not words but what is seen, what is heard, what is felt

​

Your eyes come to mind

as they look up

what they see

only you know

​

I know

that this moment shifts

but the memory remains

and like that gift

the heart over all sustains

for another time

to come again

and though that may not happen

there is this