Those cries of joy, memories from
my own childhood
eleven or twelve year old boys
noisy across our view
while I, tummy pushing forward,
hair balding, thankfully a
hat in the coolness of this day
not so with those lads, bare heads
or gloves, escaping
mom's advice, quick glances
across the road, adventure.
And I, slowly with my love
chatting, caring one for another
oblivious to stares, gloves clutching
the twilight of our lives, a
flavour of older conversations.
2011 Richard L. Provencher
My wife, Esther and I are "born-again" and enjoy sharing our writing. It is a Christian Outreach for us. Our E-mail is: email@example.com. You are invited to visit our website at: www.wsprog.com/rp/. Free downloads available. We live in Truro, Nova Scotia, Canada. Please pray for one another.