Mr. Hewitt
I wrote this at age 15 for an elderly neighbor I knew as a small girl…we sent it to the last known address only to find out he had died a month before my writing it.
Strange how life works…I often wonder if he perhaps visited me in a dream…placing that memory for me to write this poem.
Across the street is where you lived
You in your own special world and I in mine,
Yet there always seemed room for us.
A simple blue mint has triggered,
these memories of you.
Hair white as the ocean’s foam
Skin dark from the days sun.
I find it hard now,
to see your face,
but that is not important
What I do remember
is your unselfish love and grace.
The Stories you told seem so real
a girl and her father fighting the rough seas
These memories shall never be erased.
Though the pictures dimmed.
In my heart there always be,
a special chamber built strong with the love
you had time to show me.
chris Whitney
Laura-this is beautifully written.
Boston Thek Im... replied
ahhaha!!! Thank you Chris and my teachers had little hope for this dyslexic kid. ;) I wrote this at like 15 years old. ;)