oils on 8x10" art board
Winter walks beneath the moon
To me always seem to be over too soon.
Under the trees I recall and reflect
On events that have passed and their affect.
Words from a stranger or a kindness seen
Are memories that mean a lot to me.
Aunts and uncles and, of course, Mom and Dad.
I remember so much from the warmth that we had.
Then sitting out front with the girls next door,
Or at school sharing candy from the corner store.
My memories color and light the way
Each and every single day. ~ C. Keenan