Darlene Smith Poet Classicism

I Can Almost

I Can Almost ....

I can almost see you there;
Coming through the front gate.
Wearing flowers in your hair;
And then you hesitate.

I thought I caught a glimpse of you;
By your favorite maple tree.
Where you always sat and drew;
Then realizing that you are now a memory.

I could have sworn I heard your voice;
Whispering my name.
And as I began to rejoice;
I remembered it is not the same.

I can almost feel your presence;
At certain times and days.
As if you are sending hints;
You've not really gone away.

In the breeze I smell your perfume;
You wore it all the time.
But alas; death came too soon.
And you no longer are mine.

By: Darlene Doll Smith

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Jim Tidd December 29, 2015 at 11:17 AM Was this for your Mom? Or another female relative? Darlene Smith January 11, 2016 at 8:48 PM My niece who committed suicide at the age of 14. The same one I wrote "She Liked Butterflies" for.