“Ask a child seven days of age.”
The Haunting of the Heart
Will ye walk aways with me, my friend? Not far;
A year or two, at ending of your time.
We’ll not talk. Nor tell the bitter of the years.
Maybe laugh, occasional; or find a cause for tears;
Or something lost, could be, we both might find.
Will ye set a spell with me, my friend? Not long;
A minute measured by your length on earth.
We’ll pass a look or two; we both will know
And understand the feeling; so when we go
We’ll take comfort that we kin the other’s worth.
Will ye linger at our leaving, my friend? Just for me.
Lingering reassures and comforts us who part.
Memories of it help to slow the quickened tears
With recalling of you, in later years;
And soften some, the haunting of the heart.
The Education of Little Tree