A Curious Shade Of Pink

Pensive, you see her think.
Shadows grow longer, memories sharper
In yellow, the black and white tinged nostalgia rises to color
A color not black, testament to mourning, but one of a curious shade of pink.

Cracks on the ceiling grow, groan and moan
Perversely longing for the next rain
And in the torrential downpour, as the cracks deepen
Shadows keeping their place, unnoticed, a few tears shed remain.

She lights another candle wishing him back,
Put aside are memories bound and thick
Not in a box coated with ageing sepia, not cloaked in black
But one of a curious shade of pink.