"what do you miss most?"
i asked.
turning to my friend sitting on the park bench.
she replied,
with a wistful smile.
" the colours in a rainbow"

"what do you miss most?"
i questioned.
as i dug the garden over with my grandfather.
"the smell of rain on dry soil"
he replied,
dusting his hands against his pants.

"what do you miss most?"
i queried.
my old mentor as we sat drinking tea, before a roaring fire.
"the warmth of the sun on my back."
she replied,
snuggling further down into the cosy chair.

"what do you miss most?"
i asked my forever young sister playing on monkey bars.
"the feeling of the ground under my feet."
she replied,
swinging upside down.

"what do you miss most?" the kindly old gentleman, asked me as we walked together.
" i miss the sounds of the wind rustling the leaves."
we paused to rest in the peace and quiet place.



" but i miss my heart beat most."

i said to no one