One Last Time

On the banks, one last time
before moving away
packing done, the boxes loaded
awaiting the impending day.
I see the minnows near the shore
gliding through the darkened waters with ease
watching the moonlit waves
lap at the whispering breeze.
The silvered sun shows me the horizon
my childhood in its daybreak
when sweet laughter that echoes mine
resounded off this lake.
It’s time to move forward
and face a future of possibilities
but on the banks, one last time
searching for my keys.

Jamie Morris
August 5, 1998