Memory

They never really leave us.

Photo by Mads Schmidt Rasmussen on Unsplash

The man rode in the darkest of night,
so far deep that there was no light.
He passed the highest mountain,
and the lowest valley;
went as far as any two eyes
could see.
He ran out of food, he ran out of water;
and that’s when he saw her.
The one who he’d lost after so much strife;
in the dark he saw his wife.