Remembering

White coral bells
upon a slender stalk,
Lilies of the valley
deck my garden walk.
Oh, don’t you wish
that you could
hear them ring.
That will happen only
when the fairies sing.

I remember singing this as a young girl, at my mother's side as she played the piano. A patch of lilies sat just beyond our front step.
When I married and moved across the state, I took a shovel-full to remember my home. Twice since, I've moved--each time a bit further.
And each time, the lilies have come, too.
Today, there are miles between us.
And the memories she had are gone.

But, there, in a corner of my garden, it is easy to remember.