Picture in C Major

She got a picture.
It wasn't fully framed
It wasn't anything
A weird twisted tree with some fog drifting
And mountains in silouhette, blue and cloudy
But it wasn't you.

And now I may forget you were with.
That we spent that time painting and picnicking
Talking about our lives under sky and amongst weeds,
During the moments of our lives

I will remember that in my VR diary
I will remember that in my mind palace
I remember the sharing
We made for the picnic.

It was always the picnic
No field in fog nor twisted memory
This is another
But a silent echo of the food, folks, and fun