Alan L. Winters
AND THEN THERE WERE ONLY THREE
Not so very long ago
Our family numbered five:
Father, mother and we the children three.
Oldest was my sister,
Then came brother and then came me.
But by the time that father died
Our futures were uncertain
Yet still in singularity.
Thrice my sister nearly wed,
Twice my brother too
And I the youngest stayed at home
To care for mother dear.
My brother finally married
But never bore a child.
In time my mother passed away
And I was on my own
To live out my life alone.
My sister’s in her sixties now.
Well past her baring years.
And lastly I cannot produce
The fruits for summer trees.
So from our family numbering five,
Our family tree alive in spring
Withers with an autumn wind.
Once it stood with many leaves…
And then there were only three.
©Copyright November 11, 2009 by Alan L. Winters