Dear David

Dear David,

  

Every year when the peonies bloom I hear

your voice teasing two little girls cartwheeling

giggles along a broken sidewalk.

You invariably bring a brighter sun when

you stop by in spring. It hangs as a bright

balloon tied to the wrist of hope.

Yes, I choose the pinkest blossoms

to fill a vase to brighten my northern window.

They are a compass pointing toward our last goodbye.

I am much better now; the pain is still there,

but the tears don’t burn my heart as often. I finally

allowed myself to trust finding peace wouldn’t betray you.

You will always be nineteen, love baseball, think

Charlie holds the stars, and give Dawn and Carrie

piggy back rides across the front lawn.

I miss you.

With love,

Susie

NaPoWriMo ~ Day 26

Play It Again, Toads #16