Memories of an old friend

There was a kind old lady

who lived alone in a little house.

As a kid,  I  stopped by once,

to admire the flowers

and the fruit trees that grew abundantly

in her yard.

She would talk sometimes,

about her late husband, and of their love.

of the children  that they raised,

and how they moved away.

She wasn’t bitter, because she had her memories

of the things she and her husband shared.

The trees they planted

had branches that held bird feeders

and a set of chimes

he made for her.

This was a long time ago

she is gone now

the house falling down,

the paint faded.

But the tree still stands

and the music from the chimes

takes me back to a better time

in my memories


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