We Were Here

Spring somersaulted into birdbath bliss.

An eastern bluebird wore a feathered sky.

Daffodils and tulips - butterflies kiss.

A newborn babe smiled in a mother’s eye.

Verdant leaves ruffled into an applause.

The sun was warm and mirrored in the lake.

Grey squirrels scampered forsaking their cause.

A whitetail bleated in the meadow’s wake.

 

A little boy read a nursery rhyme.

A pretty girl danced in a flowered dress.

An old man could not hold the hands of time

and shed some tears that he could not repress.

Mama sang to Elvis a sad refrain.

She liked roses and grew them in the yard.

Her head full of clouds and aching with rain,

she wrestled with thorns and was battle-scarred.

 

Memories anchor a path to the past

building a bridge between places and time.

With stark, sharp edges and senses amassed,

they breathe once again as if in their prime.

Autumn arrives wearing a patchwork quilt.

Mushrooms appear upon the forest floor.

A flowerpot cracks; its contents are spilt.

A thousand memories rush through the door.

 

White wisps of winter weather strands of hair.

Brittle bones bend while foraging for youth.

A young girl lives behind a wrinkled stare

who is short on time but long in the tooth.

Names are forgotten; dreams die in the end.

A crescent moon glimmers within a tear.

A church bell, a heart bell fades in the wind.

Another grave sign to say we were here.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Red Brick Keshner]

This wonderful poem encapsulates the dreams and moments reflected from childhood wonder. It's so good to be captured here in your poem and preserved for all time. Thanks for sharing.

[Gee]

Beautiful.
Reminds me in parts of my now passed mum although she skipped summer and spent many years slipping between Autumn and Winter.
Stunning photo

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you so much, Gee. I'm sorry about your mum.

[Gee]

Thank you:)

[JE Falcon]

Mesmerized and somewhat spellbound, dear Linda. ... Once I started reading, I could not stop. One vision after the other came whispering, "look at me, see me." --- This is defiantly a keeper.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you so much. You made me smile.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

The brevity of life captured in memory and images lived. We at times take for granted these fleeting moments because we believe there will be more to come. Unfortunately we are prisoners of time where each individual is given only so many breaths. We often forget the importance of living in the moment.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

So true. Thank you.

[Lydia Shutter]

OH MY!!! How touching this poem is! "An old man could not hold the hands of time and shed some tears that he could not repress." We still think of ourselves as we were. Laughing, happy with friends, and full of hope for the future. The seasons change and so do we. The calendar pages flip over far too quickly. The soft emotional tone of this poem really hit me. Beautiful! Lydi**

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Lydi. I appreciate your response.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this poem reminds me of my parents....and I still imagined them as young people the older they grew in the tooth.
they have been gone awhile, but October, fall colors, remind me of them and their vibrance and long life...
she to 92 and he 98
they had very long autumns to their lives.
Beautiful poem...
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Jacob.

[John the Baptist]

First, the accompanying picture is gorgeous. It almost shouts autumn. The poem traces life through seasons, with each standing for a phase of our passage here. Different images represent the progression of a life and the memories that are accumulated along the way. The last stanza focuses on winter and life's passing away. Dreams do die in the end, and little remains to say we were here. But as Marcus Aurelius said, it's all part of a natural process, and therefore not to be feared.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you. Life is life. There's no undoing it.