We tramp around the lily pad-filled lake, eavesdropping on conversation fragments. It helps pacify memories like open-heart surgery, a family member’s near-death experiences, how we’ve been visiting this park for fifty-some years, how some will never come home. Some scenery we can’t ignore: the weary man displaying the “I need money” cardboard sign, half-dressed underage girls prostituting beside the Memorial Day cemetery event, police cars surrounding a driver-felled telephone pole, how some will never come home. We admire thriving yellow irises, birch-tree assemblies, mother geese leading their young through grass, families with small kids enthralled at nature. We remember. Remember.
Linda G. Hatton works as a copyeditor and literary judge. She has an MFA in writing from Goddard College. www.lindaghatton.com Facebook: lghatton