Honestly, I’m not sure
if I’ll be home soon.
I’m glad you were able to see me.
I love how you hear a different story from my eyes,how we find honesty under the moon–
a strawberry moon
rising–
like a beacon through the trees.You read me with an elder’s wisdom.
Tears well up when you hold my heart with your eyes,
how they flow with knowing.
Your own tears leaking onto your cheek.You never even met my father,
but he was speaking through you,
his presence nowhere and everywhere.Honestly, the well of deep compassion
Margaret Simon, for Carolyn
grows when watered with our tears.
Reflections on the Teche 