Neighbors

Some folks can move away and then they're gone.

And when they are, you scarcely can remember

The sort of way their life was patterned on,

And if they left in August or December,

Or how they looked - how easy they were making it,

Or if their hand was arm and firm on shaking it!

Strange how they took their lives and drifted on -

Once they were here, but when they're gone, they're gone!

But other folks can leave and still remain - 

Seems like their ways, once loved, are here forever.

The way they spoke or smiled is clear and plain;

Their fellowship from yours no miles could sever.

They made their place, and once they finished making it

There's no erasing, blurring, nor forsaking it!

Steady and clear the fires of friendship burn,

That heart and hearth shall welcome their return!

~ Esther Kem Thomas