POETRY

SIXTY

Years is such a short time

Though I see it in your face

Those gentle scars

In stories recounted, unrecounted

How did it feel to give birth to life

Through the stomach of your hopes

Drained forever, the body you loved

Those violent scars

Or did love lift you

From the earth below

They pulled me out

And dropped me

From some terrible height

Onto you

And even before

I was with you then

A little hand

Interlocked into your sisters

Little hand

Interlocked

Walking down the dusty road

And tell me again

Of your fathers departure from grace

The long trips by bus

The men you met in college

And the only one

That won your heart forever

I know that man

He said to me:

No Brighter Light

No Gift more Gifted

Spring Queen

Mother of Enduring Patience

I am sorry for the wrinkles

I am sorry for those hands

That can never be smoothed

Those lovely scars

I’ll never earn

Except that

You have shown me

What it means to die every day

Has also helped me see

Better now

After some time has elapsed

That you have chosen

The better way