~

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!