Poetry From The Heart by Barbara Ann Smith 
  Barbara Ann Smith

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 Never A Good-bye

I standstill...
need time to reflect on the roadway,
leading up to the long house.
The naked trees seem detached and exposed...
snowflakes dart here and there,
melt as they kiss my eyelashes...
could this be a touch from Mother?

The walk is long,
appears by no means to end,
here's the exact spot...
Dad bribed me with lollipops,
coaxing me into the front seat of his 1954 Mercury.
It brings to mind his brown eyes,
thin moustache and deep dimpled chin.

I went missing that day,
don't remember my age or the year...
never said a good-bye to Mother.
She probably won't recognize me...nor me her,
it been almost nineteen years.
Even now I get a whiff of the vanilla fragrance,
recollect her greenish-brown eyes,
ringlets of auburn hair poking out a hairnet...
as her tender hands rubbed away a crumb,
a warm caring bubble-like wide smile emerges.

I approach the house...
expect to see her standing in the doorway,
my mirror clouds as my world bursts,
stinging my eyes.
Dad never told me she wouldn't be here.

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