Friends, and your head was resting in my lap.
I wore a dress that Summer: blue, pink rose,
and there was sun, but best thing was that you
were resting in my lap and we were close.

Then we made a child to end the Summer.
My dress became too tight in March to wear.
Your head then found another place to rest
from where you kissed the baby, stroke my hair.

Friends, and we watched all our children play,
a new child living in my lap once more,
and at night I rested on your shoulder,
while little feet would come in through the door.

Loud fell the rain in Summer nights,
friends came by in shady evening hours,
children grew to leave the house one day
and I still wear a blue dress with pink flowers.


Comments on: "Remember" (8)

  1. It may be difficult be we must not create our self identity contingent on people, places or things as you have indicated.

  2. Another great piece! I do love reading your work πŸ™‚

  3. Ahh, the story of life in four stanzas! Now that must be an accomplishment. On top of that, the stanzas are all about job and the romantic stuff too. Yep.

    • πŸ™‚ The more we live, the more we can omit … So much is unneeded luggage!
      Thank you very much.
      (did you mean joy instead of job?)

  4. I love what you wrote in reply to Thomas’ comment–‘The more we live, the more we can omit …

    The last line ‘sums’ it all up–how through all the changes we can stay intrinsically true to ourself.

    I love the affection and sweetness in this!

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