walked out my front door yesterday, mine eyes panned
around the col-de-sac that my house is built upon, looking
up and down Cobblestone Court at the twelve homes that
nest upon this cove caused my spirit to reflect, remembering
the families who lived in these homes when first we, my wife
our canine children, first chose upon this abode
and like the flowers in Springtime, and the same trees that
are still there from when first we moved her as they bud
and bloom, the different songs of birds that awaken me in
the morn, having flown from the south to visit us in this, our
northern lair, as warming breezes now give rise, awakening
the other little residents that sleep through the grey cold nights,
hearing their tiny nails scratching up the bark of trees, scurrying
about, chasing one another in play
so too like the seasons that born new flowers, these new families
now feel the warmth of their homes in this nook, and i reflect upon,
with but a slight of memory, families who were supplanted, along
with morning their waves of hello and while in the Spring, their
flowers would also wave in sway of blowing breezes as a melancholy
smile evinces upon my face for those not forgotten souls now moved
or passed on, and their familiar flora, who were there before
