A poem for Bonnie Snyder
Breathe the sound of open windows of farming beauty
Once the smell of cooking dies away, the memory
Nears senses long hidden under years of neglect;
Now I visit the cradle of youth to hold up my future,
Inside a rustic shot of valley meadow and flowers
Easily becomes a past remembered sweetly, silently
Sustained on my brow a brief respite of longing;
Noticeable hereafter as dreams contented yesterday
Youth returns during those fun artifacts of history
Distinct parts coalesce into single remembrance.
Exultant recollection forges the bond ripened by time
Reluctant tear drops suddenly to the rocky ground.
May 19, 2009