Cassie58

Martha

a spirit crossed my path as i

breathed in the scent of pearly pinks 

in garden beds of hyacinths 

 

her presence lingered, caught my thoughts 

a pause for moments to reflect 

to pay though late my fond respects 

 

to conjure up those early days 

on visits guided to a chair 

i’d listen, learn each time i stayed 

 

how old she seemed , how thin her skin 

on hands that poured out lemonade 

and played at making paper dolls 

 

it’s strange that drapes once tightly drawn 

can part at random to reveal 

lost souvenirs that time can steal 

 

she left as softly as she came 

but not before i called her name