The stars pop into the night sky
One by one on the navy canvas, they’re shy.
I ponder if my poppies dipped in the sun
Will allow you to run.

The wind will carry your memories with the breeze,
And I shall too hope that they will reach my window sill.
I am always waiting for you, so please don’t tease.

I will gingerly carry your dusty, brown Chuck Taylors,
So tenderly, by the soft, miserably-tied shoelaces.
This will not be our last memory with your flowers gone.
The tree may be shivering, but the gleaming rays of the sun will redress it.

You’ll always be embedded into these thin branches,
I’ll keep you company as the Star sets its gaze upon us,
we’ll continuously linger as the stars fade.