We Were Here Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

Spring somersaulted into birdbath bliss.
An eastern bluebird wore a feathered sky.
Daffodils and tulips - butterflies kiss.
A newborn babe smiled in a mother's eye.
Verdant leaves ruffled into an applause.
The sun was warm and mirrored in the lake.
Grey squirrels scampered forsaking their cause.
A whitetail bleated in the meadow's wake.

A little boy read a nursery rhyme.
A pretty girl danced in a flowered dress.
An old man could not hold the hands of time
and shed some tears that he could not repress.
Mama sang to Elvis a sad refrain.
She liked roses and grew them in the yard.
Her head full of clouds and aching with rain,
she wrestled with thorns and was battle-scarred.

Memories anchor a path to the past
building a bridge between places and time.
With stark, sharp edges and senses amassed,
they breathe once again as if in their prime.
Autumn arrives wearing a patchwork quilt.
Mushrooms appear upon the forest floor.
A flowerpot cracks; its contents are spilt.
A thousand memories rush through the door.

White wisps of winter weather strands of hair.
Brittle bones bend while foraging for youth.
A young girl lives behind a wrinkled stare
who is short on time but long in the tooth.
Names are forgotten; dreams die in the end.
A crescent moon glimmers within a tear.
A church bell, a heart bell fades in the wind.
Another grave sign to say we were here.