THE BOTTLED UP CRY

I believe that many of us have a bottled up cry, a supressed weeping rooted in the soils of those we have known, loved, and miss terribly.  This goes for times too, that little boy, that little girl...walking, waking, wanting, seeing, hearing.  The parade of the elderly loved ones..growing weary, growing weaker, going away.  Where are all these people ?  People and times can't just disappear, can they ?  Yes, they can, and that is why we are jars in a pantry.  Some labeled today, last week, last year,  long ago. Life needs the bass as well as the tenor.  The flats and the sharps....plainly put, its all a melody.  Right now, just singing a sad song....,