When We are Old

My family and I went for a walk today, a walk among the trees. My son tried to catch every leaf the chilled afternoon air would dangle before. In doing so, he gave me this poem. Garrett, my son, spent a lot of time under the tree pictured here.

photo by S. Thomas Summers

This Boy

After time has blotted
this boy with age,

he’ll still remember
twirling, twisting,

with arms raised,
dashing among

the trees, hands
grasping at the leaves,

drifting as butterflies drift –
the delicate, peach wings.

He’ll remember
and raise his arms

to embrace the cool air.
He’ll remember.


9 thoughts on “When We are Old

  1. This opens my heart in a way that no words could ever express. I don’t mean to be melodramatic, but it’s the truth. (Also, in the mundane world, just an fyi – your photos never appear your posts – I get the photo by …. at the bottom, that’s all.


      1. I do apologize. Some of the posts that I receive from you do not have the attached image. It’s just a blank space where the image should be. I wanted to alert you, in case it should come up with other followers. I got the Skittles image today and the gorgeous peaches yesterday. It seems to be a random occurrence. Just an FYI. I love your writing with or without an image! 🙂


  2. Yes, he will remember, Scott. That was MY childhood, too, in Mohican forest in the fall. My growing up years (and my brother’s and sister’s) are anchored in those memories of exploring with my dad in the fall. I STILL pick up and press leaves. That is a beautiful, beautiful picture. I hope you’re putting all these poems and pictures in an actual journal of some kind. Some day it would be priceless to your family…


      1. That is totally perfect. We wrote wrap-up letters to each of our kids every year at Christmas until they were married. We gave them to them the night before they got married. Stef read right through hers. I don’t think Bran ever finished his. He kept crying. 🙂


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