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.