To an Old Woman

Almost unnoticed.

And the dressing, eating

all are finely wrapped

and placed aside,

the chore complete,

though less a chore

than it used to be.

The door and lock are stuck

and will not part

without intention,

but they do;

I am slower but not less

sure.

And yet

the gravel where I walk,

knowing where I am,

reminds me of each step

that will not wash

in this day’s rain.

And I turn,

my eyes complete,

to see

the shadowed suns

That come a’dawning

and the elder memories

of my longer years.