Moving On

We will say our goodbyes,
slowly now, like the clouds

whose wise decisions fail
in the weakest of winds

and only the discerning eye
will remember our previous

commitments- I love you
still and constant.

What do you think you hear
as the storm stops suddenly

or the exquisitely bright
vision seers an impression

on the blank, white
canvas of your time?

Does she move
you... like me?