In the echo of long- forgotten days, I search the face of memory, Where shadow meets light, A men shaped by life, To his laughter hidden, Like leaves in a storm. I hold fragile stories, The ones that draft on draft on whispers. Thread of connected, Woven through time, An absence that speaks, Filling the silence, With questions like gentle rain. My root la straight deep, Not always seen, Yet in every heartbeat, A trace of him remains.