One day when you pick up a pen,
and the sun hits it in a certain light,
you will stop
and think of me
and the sun hits it in a certain light,
you will stop
and think of me
Just for a moment,
just tiny second
you will see me
a flash of hair
a glimpse of skin
And yes, you will remember,
a great sadness will weight your heart
and then your son,
a boy of nine
will come to you and pull the pen away
and you will forget me,
everything will be nothing once again
Somewhere in the grass
beside a river,
many years later
I will be a grand old lady
small with dainty fingers
that will run over the bark of a rough tree
And I will remember
I will close my eyes and remember
and perhaps, since I am the sort,
I will shed a tear
and a breeze will blow
and ruffle my purple dress
And I will stand up
see to my grandchildren,
who are trying to catch a frog
Mate, this is just an awesome post. Your way with words gets me everytime. It's weird how a passing smell,places, songs all bring back memories as if you could reach out and touch it.
Thankyou Khadija…it means alot coming from you.
Saaleha: That is strange and sad and happy all at once to imagine.
The way life works sometimes, the grandkids may find each other on a playground somewhere.
This is so much an echo of the changing times. The twin feelings of loss and gain… beautiful!