Ah, your hair which caught
my breath is grey; my strength just
this whisper at dawn.
Generations locked
us together; when loving
was lissom; flesh ached.
A daughter! Three sons!
Pearls made perfect in your lips’
fluted secrecy.
You sewed, I read, snow
fell & fled; children slept, grew.
This we thought we planned.
In your bones I feel
our certainty, but warm,
smile against the dark.
