The area looks uninviting and deserted as I walk through the meadow;
the sun has disappeared, leaving a vacant drab earth behind.
Gloom pulls at plant life in the fields; they appear to weep,
once vibrant buttercups hang their heads as if they’re ashamed.
Leaves on trees frown; bushes hide their skirts, and color fades.
A fox creeps along the woods edge, dropping its usual alertness.
Lightning zigzags throughout a desensitized firmament,
sprinkles of rain kiss my brow, wash my face…are they his?
The severity of the daytime seems unreal like when he left,
unannounced and gone as a spark from a lightening bug.
Quick, unrehearsed, unexpected, and without a goodbye,
it’s not fair to leave without a warning or a word…gone!
It leaves tears, hurt, unhappiness, and years of sad remorse’s,
hours of bitterness, longing, and a desire to hear his voice.
I, his protector, when he was a young boy…love him, I did,
caregiver, respectful, concern…he, the frail one.
His blue eyes brought “no” evidence of being strong,
I, his mother hen, watching and knowing his every move.
He was delicate and needed assurance, required time to mature,
a period to gain confidence to grow, to shed timidity.
I vowed to be there as a protector, a teacher, a listener…
a voice he needed to hear as weakness swallowed his thoughts.
He needed someone for assurance and to awaken his limitations,
offering love, an ear to listen, and to influence tolerance and strength.
I wasn’t prepared for the day when he would fly away like an eaglet,
leave the secure nest and a loving mother hen who loved and cared.
The sky remains obscure, the sun’s trying to push through every day,
and time equals credence for a glare of brightness to shine through;
bursting the darkness for covering my regrets of losing him for good.