While my visiting days are over,
I am left with another gift,
Fantasizing as a butterfly
Landing softly on a cruise ship.
I don’t drive down the Texas highways,
Where once bluebonnets thrilled,
Though in my mind I still see them,
Spreading on a hill.
A visit to my daughter is two-fold foiled,
For planes just cost too much money,
And she has steps from which I recoil,
But she flies to me, that honey.
Look I toward visits to a grocery store,
Fresh faces, bright colors and such,
I visit the world in my head these days,
In a chair, with a cane, and no not even a crutch.
Not to be morbid, but I visit old family friends,
Those gone to me now, always present in my heart,
In a quiet moment on the deck under rustling trees,
I can visit a face, two or three, make a party.
We can remember the silly things we did,
To soften the griefs or stress we all bore,
And when we were sharing parenthood,
Hoping the children would land safely on adulthood's shore.
We shop now and then on a day trip,
Stop in at some little bistro on the way,
A visit posthumously to my old friends,
Can pass a piece of the day.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2019