Splashing in puddles after a summer rain.
The smell of honeysuckle on a hot summer night.
The sound of a storm tearing the branches from the trees.
Fireflies dancing through the night.
Freight trains roaring down the tracks.
Playing games around the kitchen table perched on a stack of books.
Secrets shared on the front porch swing.
Tea so sweet it made your teeth ache.
A crumpled dollar bill pressed into your hand.
A place to rest, to belong, always.
Prayers said all day every day.
A love unending, unconditional.
A heart big enough to love many, but not strong enough to continue beating.
An end to a life, to a family, to unity.
A sorrow unequal to any other.
(Copyright 2010, Linda Rosendale)