Haunting Echoes

The music dies upon the strings But lingers on Like other sweetly treasured things Here once - and gone.

The breeze that blurs the mirror pool Cannot erase The outline of the forest cool Upon its face.

The haunting fragrance of the flowers Of yesterday Not all the intervening hours Can steal away.

And loving friends we used to know Nor e’er forget Although they left us long ago Seem with us yet.