in CVS today
My breath caught, to realize
I have no more sweet old ladies
in my life
The round top of her gleaming
orange coiffure
barely reached my shoulder height
And reminded me of ribbon candy
She softly touched a box of
Goobers, pulled away
I moved on down the aisle
but wanted to follow her
I wanted to watch her later molest
every craft in Home Goods
to only drop it again, failing
her quality assessment
I wanted to follow her home
and watch her at her olive green kitchen
table
while she writes a letter to a
grandchild
and study the hesitant blue ink
as it slowly traces across the
paper
with the same pace and shape of
cautious fractals,
ice crystals stretching across a
winter window
I wanted to sit with her through
her quiet meals
Listen to the regular clink
of her spoon in her bowl
like a small, but insistent bell
tolling
I would like to then follow her
upstairs
to her dusk-time, bed-time
to watch her quietly fasten
her sleep cap
to protect her curls
despite knowing, each night,
they will loosen--a bit
as will her memories, which
gently lose structure
smoothing out
flat and featureless
like warmed ribbon candy
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