By: Libby D.

92 was my age when I said my goodbyes. 

Sarah in tears. Charlie begging for more time. 

But it was time for me to go; time for me to leave that life. 

They were my 2 reasons for life. 

Oh, how I miss them and the bakery 

where the sweet mouthwatering smell of apple pie 

whirled around them as they looked in awe 

at the beautifully finished pastry that appeared in the oven. 

Adam’s Apple Pie. 

Adam. The man I fell in love with, who fell into sickness just before our wedding day. 

In this densely crowded cemetery, where I lay, 

I make my rounds looking for his face, 

listening for his soft whistle, 

following the lingering smell of his pie. 

Adam’s Apple Pie. Harmon’s specialty. 

One day I will find him. I know I will. 

But as I wait, I watch as the world changes 

beautifully around me in this cemetery I call home.

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