bright flowers; dark clothes
stopped cars- a parade
faces of people I don’t recognize
they sit and stare
but I stand
paths of pedals lead to –
I can see him
days flow; the river winds
the leaves – they turn
green, yellow, red, brown
and into winter
and yet- I stop in my tracks
I still see him
white roses; a wedding dress
cheers arise from the crowd
I stare into her eyes
fireworks in the sky
often I forget now
but still, I remember him
long nights; little rest
my son cries
he looks just like me
I’m busy now
the face that used to echo
now a whisper in my mind
wrinkled faces; tired eyes
a wife by my side
a distant figure in the doorway
a face I have met before
and as the memories come flooding back,
it’s only him now
smiling back at me
by Grant W.