“...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...”

“...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...”

“...I pluck every day from my sweater or chair, red hairs...strands of significance, traces of you in my life ...”

“...every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between - does it matter they're the color of your hair - or they still fall in my memory?...”

“...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...”

“...you lifted the veil when you admitted you had no memory of that day - it was so special and your lack of recall so monstrous...”

“...the strands that connect us are frail, so don't hang great weights on slender wires...”