PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It used to be the first thing our grandchildren would do…run and open that closet door

But now when they come for a visit…it’s not the first thing they run to anymore,

It used to be they couldn’t wait…for on that door is shown…

since the last time they visited us…just how much they’ve grown.

On that door is what amounts to a kind of family tree…

with their heights and dates written in black for all of us to see.

It’s funny how time changes things…it not like it was before…

because now when the grandchildren visit…they walk right past that door.

Now that they have grown up…now that time her will on us has imposed…

They are no longer concerned about how tall they are…

and that closet door remains closed.

But every time I open it…I’m reminded how quickly the years have amassed…

and I often pause a moment for a visit to the past.

I’ll run my fingers along their heights and dates…thinking not, ‘where did the time go?’

but about how lucky I have been…to be here to see them grow.

Remembering when they stood there…

how I’d mark their height and hear them yell, “Oh wow!

”Hey everyone…come look…I’m so much taller now!”

It’s funny over the years how our lives have rearranged….

how now, when our grandchildren visit, their priorities have changed

It’s no longer the first thing they do when they come to visit anymore…

and now it’s me, not them, who can’t wait to open that closet door.