dawn lightens the lake
obsidian turns emerald, as sunlight lifts the blue
and the river churns past the pier
but where is Margaret?

the gulls soar, sweep low
sparrows sing and lift us from dreams
white caps chase each other toward the sand
but where is Margaret?

at Lion’s Park Beach, below
the swing shivers and lifts empty, in the soft wind
runners and dogs appear amid the tall lake grasses
but where is Margaret?

in the garden outside her front door
the trees open their arms, waiting
flowers lift their faces
but where is Margaret?

even the statue of Pan seems pensive,
lifts his pipes beneath the morning shadows, wondering
where, oh where is Margaret?

I write my prose, remembering
I dig in my garden, remembering
I soak small seeds, remembering
I trim the lilacs and listen to the crows argue,
a song rises to my mouth, lifts into the air
and there … there she is … Margaret is everywhere.

Margaret Eunice Hartley Hills (Birth: March 6, 1926 Death: June 15, 2013)