…and then she will ask me,
to say something nice –

there’s something, I’m certain,
should surely suffice.

My mind dashes back
through slivers of time –

To memory moments,
sliced by design,

and think of, ponder,
give over to wander

though time in the mind,
is always together.

Birds of one feather –
a hen and her chick.

Close to each other –
The other one sticks.

Gone now, forever,
it passes so quick,

that now, all alone,
the progeny grown,

one on his own
must begin a new clique.

Nor more, not whether!
there never will ever

again be the hen
along with her chick.

…again, she will ask me,
say something kind.

The hen with her chick
then comes to mind.

One will move forward,
the other, behind –

lost to the enfolds
of fast fading time.

©Marvin Loyd Welborn, 2012
revised 5 August 2013. Revised 8 Feb 15.