~
last time I saw your face
sweet spring day
anticipation
regret
juxtaposition
holding on, letting go,
my son, young man
last time I saw your face
sweet spring day
recollection
hope
distinction
never go, clinging to
young man, always my child
~
*post script.
she is haunted by memories. this one shared with me just this week.
by Becky, my wife of thirty-five years and mother to our three beautiful sons.
her first poem ever... as far as i know.
yes, she is beautiful... and is all that is life to me!