I catch you lingering in night.
Dark trench coat
blending into dusk
drifting in the breeze
Walking the way
you always walked,
silent as leaves
floating down.
Are you happy in the night?
I watch you from the frost-clouded window.
A single lantern lit.
A single shard on the ground.
Not a day younger,
or older,
but you are ancient
to me.
Wow.
This has such a gentle, shivery feel.
I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief