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Text: Poem by Maureen Tolman Flannery
They come to us and then they go away.
We merely hold in trust all treasures here. T
he things of greatest value seldom stay.
Ideas not sculpted into imaged clay
are half remembered as the ones most dear.
They come to us and then they go away.
Deep reds that streak the sky at close of day
are most intense before they disappear.
The things of greatest value seldom stay.
The forest’s pallet gives a bold array
of gold-tones in the waning of the year.
They come to us and then they go away.
The holy awe that made us start to pray
cannot be summoned when a church is near.
The things of greatest value seldom stay.
The children that we fostered on their way
have songs to sing we now can barely hear.
They come to us and then they go away.
The things of greatest value seldom stay.
2002, published in Pudding. Reprinted with permission
