Untitled (a work in progress)

He is cedar

Rich in the recesses

Within me

Ever present

Ever fresh

And she is redwood

Wise and old

Before her time

Her sad eyes

Bright starlight

Through her branches

Most things are images now

Names pass away

But the essence

Of things remain

More true imprints

Of what they are

She is redwood and

He is cedar

My child. My husband.

My memory fades

The details of life are fleeting

What we are

Where we went

Why she can’t take the train

Isn’t she allergic to sesame seeds?

No that was me and that’s passed now

Who you are

At your core

They cannot take from me.

What you mean to me

You are cedar

You keep me always

She is redwood

Wise and strong.