Alan L. Winters
Photograph ©Copyright by Alan L. WintersI watch you as you till the soil
Gazing through our window pane
Undaunted by the heat or rain.
How you loved the garden so
Which kept you young and spry,
Mortal as you were, deciding not to die.
So now I wait for your return
To meet you at the door
Then hesitate… and sit alone
And know you’ll not be coming home.
©Copyright August 2, 2005 by Alan L. Winters
I wrote this the day before my mother died. As far as I can recall you are the first person to have seen it. She was 88.
May 6, 2006
Webmaster’s Note: Alan’s poem was sent to Steve Brandenburg via the on-line IWVPA Club to comfort him on the death of his favorite Aunt: Anthony W. Pahl, OAM - May 8, 2006