framed in white lilies
she stood by the garden gate.
shafts of late afternoon
sunshine slanted through trees
and landed across her face.
with gloved hand on hip
she turned toward me,
her playful eyes inviting
memories of times at the beach
before kids and trips
to the nursing home for each
of our aging parents.
i waved in reply, a stupid grin
fixed in place
as she opened the iron gate
and stepped inside
to be swallowed up by a sea
of summer weeds.
