Across the bridge,
I bring flowers, and sit on the ground with them
They talk to me without speaking – no judgment, nothing wanting.
I listen, and hear the past, and remember how it was when they were here, and how they helped me just by being here;
I would watch TV with them, and they would argue over who was in what show: “Was that Eddie Albert or Van Johnson?”
They would ask me,”No big plans?”
It was enough.
I sat like that then, and I sit like this now – no big plans, and it is enough.
Good visit, M and D.