Her
I watch her float on heavenly clouds
lightly touching the faces of those before her
Running her fingers across the shrouds
of the old ones to whom she must confer
The most radiant of the angels now
will she think of me as the years unfold
Wiping my tears and wiping my brow
I feel her small fingers in a protective hold
Across my shoulders and rubbing my back
I know now I needn't worry about my love any more
I will think of our time our memories unpack
and wait for our time to dance across the floor.
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