I'll Be Seeing You

A warm longing, like the smell of coffee from an old café where no one has waited for a long time, but still left a candle on the windowsill - in case someone they know suddenly drops in. There are no loud promises or trembling passion here, only the soft aftertaste of a presence that has already gone but still lingers. A smile in the sunbeams, a voice in the noise of the park, even the carousel of children's laughter - everything reminds you that the heart has its own memory, stubborn and kind. And perhaps this is eternity - when you look at the moon and see someone who once looked at it with you.