A Picture from a Nursing Home
When the photo came I had to turn it round
and round before I realized what it was
or who, and when I recognized you, I found
my tongue gone dry and shed the tears that pass
all understanding ; my memory produced
another image, more than half a century before,
a teenage girl, slender, smile induced
by pride and confidence, on skates—the door
once opened, the years poured out, your stay with us,
the family who protected you at first,
the boy I was, merely a child, the fuss
I could not understand, how you were cursed
and loved ; but always after you were there for me
when no one else would come—only now I see.
No comments:
Post a Comment