Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
I try to see your face, seamless through the dark but it is always smothered by mothering shadows. His pale-blue eyes gaze up into the equally pale and blue sky. If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory like a scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.