It was her,
It had to be,
Her long, curly hair,
Moving with the wind,
No one had such luscious black hair,
And such bright green eyes,

You have her eyes,
My father used to tell me,
I had the same big green eyes,
That always looked mysterious,
As though the held all the secrets of the world,

He once said I have her sense of humor,
I just nodded along,
Not wanting to remind him,
I had the sarcasm of a goat,
But I pitied him,
For what he misses most of her,
He imagines I have,

Her long, red dress,
The ends following behind her,
Could be seen a mile away,

Her wry smile,
Always looking as though she had done something wrong,
Something mischievous,
Something I would never do