Down Where the Forsythia Blooms

Down the road where the Forsythia bloomed Bright yellow despite dark clouds amassed Flooding rains, thunder, lightening flashed Touched with sadness for home removed Spirits of hardy souls still live Floating shrouds mixed with the rain Hear their voices in the howling wind Feel their presence in Bamboo Chimes again On days like today with gray_flooding Winds that chill_sleep elusive One bright spot offers assurance_comfort Knowing that in our going memories will linger For at least one generation children will see Our lives lived down where the Forsythia blooms (I know that the rhyming and syllable count is off)