An anemone is a flower that looks fragile and shy
She sits by the tulips as the days go by.
When the spring winds come and the tulips are gone.
This strong little flower lives on and on.

In memory of my son, Spc 4, Lance Quincy Paquette, 1975-1997

Where are you now?
Are you out on the farm in the apple tree?
Or are you in the goat pen hiding from me?
Are you down at the creek catching some minnows?
Or are you giggling with glee as you swing from the willow?
I hear your small voice piping through the air
But I can’t see you anywhere.

Where are you now?
Are you in the big back yard playing hide and seek?
Are you down at the river?
Was it only last week—no last year or 10 years
How long ago
Has it been since I’ve seen you my love,
I don’t know.

Where are you now?
Are you exploring the caves with Pat, Paul and Sam?
Or are you down at the river crossing the dam?
Are you up at the viaduct looking over the town.
Or are you somewhere in heaven—just looking around?
If you ‘re up there in heaven
Then, my love, look down.

The magic and wonder are missing, somehow.
My sweet dark eyed boy.
Tell me.
Where are you now?