Though much is taken much abides ….
when our memories stir.
Sometimes you can close your eyes and see places where you use to live.
in those small town homes.
Where each Spring renewed its eternal cycle.
And a paradise of perpetual Summers begin.
Where backyard vows are spoken.
Somewhere along a river the marsh and sloughs still find pipers calling,
and herons spread their wings.
All is well…when memories stir.