To My Mother

 Fifty-eight years is a long, long time but I still miss you.

To Posey

Rose, you bloomed so sweetly in the summertime.

All the sun's warm light

And all the rain's bright gleam

Gathered there in you.

You were beauty.

You were love.

You were a symbol

Of all good things.

You were bright in the afternoon

But the morning had seen you cry.

The dewy tears you wept

Were shed for me.

You knew my heart would break when you were gone.

I love you, Mom.