The grass was recently mowed

(trimmed really)

flowers now…

spring is life

they say.

A black iron fence wrapping

around…square stone

blocks

what were once

people…her,

him, mom, dad…

son.

He is here because

I am

here.

The cold of the

granite

against my face…and…

my soul; my

past.

I can’t forget, ever

ever..but

here I won’t.

Here; where spring comes

where grass is

mowed

trimmed

where I

am.

Now.

Tomorrow I will smile

remember

laugh and…

feel.

Tomorrow I won’t

be here…and

he will be

with

me.

Again.