Mapping treasured moments throughout life gives us thoughts to think about in later years when we are alone.
Children grown, no riotous laughter ringing through the halls, no one clamoring for attention.
That is when our memories are most precious to us.
Hoping for visits from our grown children and grandchildren, daily thinking of them throughout the hours, wondering what they're doing.
Remembering what life was like not so long ago, standing on the edge of crimson rose horizons as middle age continues towards senior living.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem