Patter of small feet
on a city street;
buildings brick
but ambience ever green --
far, far better than any dream.
The passage of time can take its toll
but it cannot obscure this:
mother and young grandmother --
childhood's Springtime kiss.
2 comments:
Captured at the optimum moment; this one and 'suspense' my current favourites. Brevity is still the soul of wit and perhaps 'writ'.
I thank you for your regard. This poem is very special to me.
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