Children Again

They came to the cemetery with flowers for the graves.
The were children again, in spite of their age.

Dad didn’t say much, placed the flowers by her name.
He read the stone fondly, a mother’s son once again.
His hand always shakes, he has a shuffling walk
But there was a smile on his face and he seemed deep in thought.

Mom said, “Here they are, my mother and my father.”
She set down each plant, the dutiful daughter.
She’s just a big kid who is now getting old,
Trying to make them happy, to honor their souls.

What did their parents think of them then?
What memories remain with their aging children?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s