Memories of a parched land

I saw you, for the first time,

Yet you looked like

An old, loving memory.

As if by your absence

You lived

By my side, all along.

Then you moved on,

As clouds move past,

Without rain, over a parched land.

Yet, some other time,

When I may see you,

I would be drenched,

In memories

Of times, I wished

But could never spend.

Memories of a parched land first appeared in Temper Literary Review