The Bloom Past

Laughing and playing,

my tiny frame can barely walk.

His even smaller body bounds next to me.

He licks me; I giggle.

I jump and I fall,

landing with a hug.

She picks me up.

She is old, I young.

Rose, 

she loves me, 

her great grandson.

How few years are so happy.

Wilting and weeping,

those times had passed.

The sun lost its rose.

The sky wailed.

Wondering and thinking,

if I could change one thing,

what would it be?

Why... my dear Rose would come back to me.