His eyes come to rest on her long, dark hair,
And remembered the ease with which she carried herself.
Remembering hit him like a soft autumn breeze,
Drifting around and through him, with just an edge of cold.

He remembered their first sweet kiss,
It was also his first, they were seventeen.
He recalled them holding hands, fingers well entwined,
And his hands wrapped wround her tiny waist.

In his mind's eye he sees her name by his.
Both names encased in a lopsided heart,
And etched into the grains of the old oak by his home.
His thoughts of her also deeply engrained, forever in his heart.

The boy, now a man, puts his arm around his sweet wife.
They speak softly as they rise to leave,
Of the plans they have for their soon to be born son.
He turns his eyes just one more time, to rest upon her hair.