stepping stones
your garden is all grown up
said the daughter
to the old man as they
sat in front of the fire pit
listening to the wood talk
she remembered way back when
there were stepping stones
throughout the garden
and she would jump from one stone
to the next like you would
playing hopscotch
the stones were still there
camouflaged beneath the jungle
barely noticeable amongst the greenery
blossoming a spectrum of colors
rainbows inspired to imitate
do you remember
when we put in the stepping stones
asked the old man
yes I do
answered the daughter
I was just thinking about that
june two thousand thirteen
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