Peter Koppes Apex Farmer
You must have thought that I made it all up
But you don't understand
It's times like these that I think of her
A breezy essence floats on my memory
Coming and fading like the fleeting smiles
Blissful wonder and serenity
A mirror for my self-preservation
Playground of my rambling search
But now that she is gone
I see the echo of her in the eyes of others
And a deep breath escapes my lips
At the distance between sisters and brothers
