Warmness of Memory

A fragment of time
minuscule, ephemeral
itself in the heart contained
of happiness in interval

Keeping me warm
in a pre-winter night
cradling within my arms
under a soft moon unblight

The sound and wind
wraps me in comfort
carrying with them a scent
of field of flowers assorted

Something so small
a concept only we have
something immaterial
the time we have left

The memories I recall
shattered and fragmented
amidst the squall
for that I intrude
a sacred space within me
clearing out the damaged
to calm the cacophony
and clear the withered

And when I am done
I'll close the book
with pages unturned
to let this burden unhook