I don't remember what I saw.
Yet, I remember what I felt.
The village was hot coal deep beneath the ruins,
Like a mine of pain.
It painted my empty hands in black,
My sigh- with silence.
Title;
Someone said:
Her face was still youthful,
But around her lips there were deep wrinkles
As though her mouth aged by itself.
No, I whispered. I knew her.
The sadness of time was in her hands.
She used to touch the knick-knacks of her loneliness
In order to convince herself she was still alive.

Background: a lonely survivor who died. I speak.