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Memory is time’s mirror,
hand-held for days of decades
silver worn, a web of slight lines
trending to cracks
You hold yours to me
I hold mine to you
and here is our forever
reflected
as two mirrors do.
Heavy with want
I search through
memories flawed and failing
Here, you say, hold it, don’t lose it
It will wear, crack
it is time after all….
Naïve,
I want our forever
our reflection through infinite time
Now tempered with loss
I see, worn and lined
A gift
not your reflection
but your reflection of me
.
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