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Reunion

By: Ardis E. Parshall - August 08, 2013

Reunion

By Sylvia Probst Young

I turn the corner to a quiet street.
There stands a little house that I call mine,
That white frame over by the willow tree;
Its front porch holds a honeysuckle vine,
The western window frames a twilight sky
And larks are nesting in the willow tree –
In that small world is all my happiness
Within a family circle’s intimacy.

I hurry now, for coming down the street,
I see them … How familiar is the noise
Of racing feet … and I am back again
With three I love – three little boys.
They almost smother me as each one tries
To hug me first – and then we go
Back to the house to tell of all we did,
Although I left less than an hour ago.

(1949)



2 Comments »

  1. That’s sweet.

    Comment by Amy T — August 8, 2013 @ 12:21 pm

  2. Cute.

    Comment by David Y. — August 8, 2013 @ 1:44 pm

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