A PICTURE OF YOU


  Plenty of times I saw you, watched as you changed,


  A portrait of a baby, many years ago as time has aged it,


  As a child, you appeared a certain way, young at play.


  From twelve to seventeen, a face that went different ways,


  Twenty was a special year, your first child, a boy named Gary.


  Seven children as the years went by, your picture changed,


  Beyond eighteen or twenty five, seasons changed in your eyes.


  Mom! I miss you, I think I can hear you when I sleep in the 
  the night,

  A picture of you rests in my sight, a picture of you in a book 
  That I write.

                                     Keith Garrett
     My mom, 1939- 2019