On my walk I notice a hint of yellow
on the arched branches of forsythia
that grow over an old rock wall—

the stones handpicked for fit
not a wink of daylight between them.
The mind can be tricky.

When I woke up this morning,
I forgot for a moment
there was a pandemic

in the way sometimes at first light
I forget that my father is dead.
This wall is a kind of memorial

to a lost world— its stones
formed thousands of years ago.
I walk by it and tell myself

everything will be fine
once the forsythia’s
yellow blossoms crown.



The phrase, “memorial to a lost world,” is attributed to University of Connecticut geology professor, Robert M. Thorson.

Image: “New Forsythia Blossom on a Rainy Morning” by slgckgc, licensed under CC 2.0.

Cindy Veach
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