Connections Lost

Found in a drawer, this old phone book lies,

yellowed pages whispering of long-lost ties.

Familiar names framed in faded ink,

each one a ghost that makes me think.

Dust motes dance lightly in the sun's embrace,

every crinkle of paper holds a face.

Moments wrapped in layers of time,

a symphony of silence, each line a rhyme.

I trace the letters where love used to bloom,

but now they sit still, wrapped up in gloom.

Connections frayed like threads on a seam,

voices replaced by echoes of dreams.