I’m Standing Outside (Years Ago)

I remember the lawn stretching toward the creek, oft times, the beaver dam.

A focal point is where we buried her, our loyal Flanna, a long golden life.

I only imagine the inside now, having not been near for years. 

I’m outside now.

I remember the furniture, my favorite chair, the couch for you and your books.

I watched you read for hours, lost in the creative imaginations of your author.

If I’d known now, what I wondered about then, we’d still be here together,

Losing our marriage.

I can see the sun setting, creating shadows across water, a painted forest.

I remember believing and suggesting eyes were watching us live our lives.

The breeze would whistle through the trees casting melodies for our days.

I’d wait on the deck nearly all afternoon for our hummingbird and her visit.

Always, my dad would come to mind.

I wish for tomorrow. I know that a home might maintain her spirituality.