Michael Stephen Daigle

They walk past the park,

Down the hill where the industrial gas of the chemical plant

 once stained the air and burned her nose.

Then a right, up the hill to the house with all the flowers.

A right at  their house, a right turn to the porch, up three steps to open the  door, step inside.

They walk past the park,

Then a left to the  fire station, where they stop a moment and she gazes at the flag.

They walk past the park.

Her gaze from a puzzled face is  direct, focused on the  horizon.

One stiff step after another, both memory and learning;

Mouth moving, voice a whisper, a song for someone to learn, says I am, follow.

I,  with my cane, nod a greeting.

One day they walked past the  hospital on its busy street.

Her eyes wide with panic at the honking and truck rumbles.

Did he need to tell her that was where their children were born?

One day she walked alone.

Did she turn at the fire station and wonder at the flag?

Did she hear her high school  band fill the empty street with marching feet and brass and drums and remember cheering?

Moments later he was running  after her.

They walk together past the park.

Then a right past the houses that have changed colors.

Then a left past the empty lot where the house burned down.

Then a right past the tall fence where the big dog always barked.

They walk, pacing, measuring, trying to remember, as if feet on asphalt, the smell of newly mowed  lawns,  the friendly shout of a neighbor, will open the memory to recognize what their life together was like.

Remember, he says. This is all you.

It is the last thing he can give her.

They walk past the empty park, where the ball field was carved from the once lush grass.

They walk past the silent park, the infield brown with swirling dust.

Crows squabble over morsels in the torn, gray grass.

Does she hear the joyful scream of her daughter who finally hit the ball to the outfield and ran and stumbled on  little legs to first base where she  jumped up and down?

The left turn to the fire station is near first base.

They turn, marking the trail at the fire station  with the  flag;

 they turn again, then turn again,  taking the path home.