I wrote this poem when I was 20 years old. The love of my life had chosen to walk a path that did not include me. In time, we moved from romance to close friendship. In November of 2012, Penny went Home to be with the Lord. When I heard of her passing, I cried so hard that I thought the chambers of my heart would burst.
By Richard Mabey Jr.
I have come here one more time,
to walk among the pine.
You and I used to walk this same trail,
on Sunday afternoons.
I’d bring my dog along.
You are not by my side,
I am walking alone.
I’ve reached the fallen tree,
its Springtime once again.
It’s here we would sit and talk.
My dog would yawn,
and we’d move on.
But I’m sitting here alone,
my dog is gone,
and so is, what we once shared.
And, I miss you so, I miss you so.
I’ve reached the hillside,
overlooking the lake.
It’s here we would untie my dog, Sunday;
watch her run across the field.
And, then lie back and look up to the sky,
I would reach over and hold your hand,
feel your soul batter, pound and quicken
at your wrist’s pulse.
I’m sitting here now at the hillside.
The grass is green,
the sun is sinking in front of me.
The waters of the lake are rippled by the wind.
Everything is the same,
the fields are empty,
and you are not by my side.
I leave the hillside,
walk across the empty field,
walk by the lake,
and once more through the pine forest,
down the unpaved, dirt road to my Falcon.
The ignition roars the engine,
the car windows are unstained of dog saliva,
the car is absent of your scent,
and I leave Swartswood Park by myself.