Amber Echoes

They used to meet at golden hour on that same bench, same old jokes and same sunlit ease. Now the days are quieter, but the warmth remains. Amber Echoes holds that memory close: soft rainbows, citrus light, and the gentle ache of missing someone who still lives in your favorite moments.

We used to sit where sun spilled through the blinds,

Two books between us, tea left half-ignored.
The world grew slow, like film in quiet minds,
And laughter bloomed in corners we adored.

The hours bent like rainbows on the wall,
Soft echoes of a time we didn’t name.
Now miles unfold between each wistful call,

But light still bends — the glow remains the same.

I see you in the lamp’s forgiving hue,
In citrus bowls and clock hands ticking low.
You dwell in dusk, in gold that filters through
The folds of thought where only closeness goes.

Though time and silence stretch where once was near,
I wear the echo still — and hold you here.