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I haven’t been here for many many years. Finally I took the plunge to revisit my childhood haunts. I approach your deserted dilapidated old house where I'd spent so many happy hours with you and Grandpa – all I have left are precious memories. I can almost smell the aroma of freshly baked bread, which wafted from your kitchen.
overgrown jungle
where once red roses blossomed
faded memories
As we walk down the garden path, my young son looks up at me and squeezes my hand tightly.
emerald velvet
covering the cracked pathway
time taking its toll
Years have passed so quickly, but now I have returned to visit as I promised. Slowly my son and I walk to the churchyard where we find your gravestone. The only thing my son has is your photograph and my memories - he never got to meet his great grandmother.
carved in black marble
your name is all that remains
river of tears flow
07~11~15
Copyright © Jan Allison | Year Posted 2015
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