Old Soul

Old Soul

Someone mentioned 'old souls'
the other day and, immediately,
I thought of you.

You are, you know. Immeasurably old souled
and yet that spring chicken you always rattle on about
has nothing on you!

The herons are back; I hear them calling.
Saw them winging overhead on Sunday last.
Little things keep making me think of you.

~~~

Ringing phone pulls me from my poem.
Don't want to be interupted
but I check and see it is you.

Except it isn't.
It's your other half of your heart
calling to tell me

you have been flying
with the herons
since Sunday.

In memory of Kathryn Scott 1946-2018 Writer, poet, friend and very old soul!