My hands graze the Queen Annes Lace

white tops and fragrant blooms

keep me company

along tracks once traveled.

Sweet summer breezes bring the scent

of youth gone by

and memories of your eyes

how they searched my lips

for that first kiss.

Behind corn stalks

we hid from farmers and from brothers

just to feel alive in our small lives.

Along tracks once traveled

my hands hands graze

searching for memories

of a once small life.

 

C. Churchill