"Before We Go"

(a poem for Diana and Robert)

The heros of selfish wounds
owned by summer
not forgotten by fall.
As silent as glances
down a long dark hall.
Their end is as painful as their deed,
chosen so hastily.
There are looks I'd like to share,
silences I would treasure.
There are smiles I'd like to say
silenced now forever.
Their children picked flowers at the neighbors
running across the street saying,
"Before we go, before we go."
Heros are owned by children,
if they choose to remember them that way.