• I am back
    As an old woman who has seen ten and eighty years
    The same old scene stretching before my eyes.

    I am walking
    In the pines that once towered above us both.

    I was young.
    You carried me on your shoulder
    I, the mere age of four.
    You were strong then
    And shared soft words.

    I remember
    The sunlight that filtered through the crown.
    Hitting our faces.
    It was smiling at us.

    I spy flowers,
    Pale and pink,
    Bright against the dark earth and shining grass.
    Your strong arms lift me from my perch
    And set me gently on the ground.

    I pick them
    And we walk.
    Your large strides have me running by your side
    To keep up.
    Your face shines bright, and your smile is brighter still,
    As I show you the flowers as if they were the greatest treasure in the world.

    But those days are gone.
    You are gone
    And I am still here.
    I spy the flowers we used to pick.
    My bones creak and my joints ache
    As I sit amongst them.

    The sun is bright and warm here
    Though I feel nothing but cold.

    I am ready to go.
    Come for me,
    Put me on your shoulder again.
    Take me home.