When shadows fall, as they always will,
I sit in my room, alone and still.
Memories come back to me, pieces of the past.
God, why did the years go by so fast?
Has it been eight years since we said goodbye?
Am I that old or does the time fly?
The little hydrangea, it's growing so high
And I think of Momma each time I walk by.
Working in the yard, I see the 'garden' sign.
It used to be Momma's, but now it's mine.
I see her in my little girl, her actions and her ways;
The stubborn determination to do her best today.
Planning a fun vacation or a picnic at Oak Park
I remember happy evenings, when fireflies lit the dark.
The Christmas decorations, that she loved so dear,
Even though I've let her go...I know that she's here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem