Friday, July 17, 2015

Poetry Friday: Winding Roads

As a child I spent a week each summer with my grandparents.  My grandma kept us busy with picnics and adventure.  Today as we motorcycled the winding hills we passed one of our favorite destinations.  The memory brought today's original poem.

Driving winding roads,
through cool forests
we once walked
side by side.
Nothing much has changed;
the trees still
stand tall watching,
their long branches
hiding treasures to be discovered,
cars still line the parking lot
where people gather,
unpack picnics: 
bologna sandwiches
with homemade mayonnaise sweet,
macaroni salad,
iced bottles of Coca-Cola,
watermelon cut with care into cubes
just right for small hands.
Years have come and gone but,
the paths we walked
still call.
The laughter 
still sings in my ear.
Though it's been years
I feel you walking beside me
as I meander past
the places we once walked

Cathy L. Mere 2015 

It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by Google + ( where Kimberley Moran hosts today's parade of wondrous words.


  1. What a lovely tribute to a slower time and your grandma.

  2. It's a lovely memory captured, Cathy. I like that "The laughter/still sings in my ear." It's an image that holds a lot.

  3. I love this beautiful tribute. "Nothing much has changed" except the profound change.

  4. I love all the details of food that bring this memory to life, especially "watermelon cut with care into cubes
    just right for small hands." What a lovely way to show your grandmother's love.

  5. Cathy, your poem is a treasure you found hidden among the long branches of that cool forest. I can picture you and your grandmother having your picnic and hiking those paths.

  6. Your poem was so beautifully written and I could almost see my mom there walking beside you.. Perhaps she was in the wind..

  7. Thank you for sharing this. It can be comforting that has nothing has changed and that our memories live on and at the same time sad. My grandmother recently passed away and I'm glad for all the memories but then at the same time, there are moments when it strikes me how life keeps on going and does stay the same when I want it to stop because she's not here any more. I love this celebration of your memory.

  8. What a beautiful memory, and your poem is so full of imagery I felt like I was right there with you.

  9. The picnic details really bring this poem home for me. Perfect!


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