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Growing Old is Growing Old
May 24, 2011
We took the park path
to the river
past the stocked pond
that never seemed to contain fish
and the small swamp
that bustled of coos and caws that came from invisible sources
There were some children
on the swingset
on the way there
They faced the river
gently swaying with the wind
silently
Their little eyes mirrored the sun
and then I was sure
I had dropped something along the way
Here
I'm just not sure what it was.
I'm just not sure what it was.
© Hilary L., Rogers City, MI
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