I Know a Place
the ward is stamped white
a fidelity to fading, sometimes in a smear of shadows
in her corner, Lilly sits
wheelchair bound
her white hair falling
like her winks at strangers
John's arrival cuts solitude
raises Lily's soft shell of aging
their homage to love like Billboard vows
interlocked fingers that bind intimacy
till close knit words trail to song
his voice dusky
washing over Lily like cologne
Broadway tunes
"the sun'll come out tomorrow
bet your bottom dollar
that tomorrow there'll be sun"
his affecting gush of song ushers remembrance
caught in the tucked curl of her smile
stoic
remarkable
peeling back impairment
outside this place of pleading
outside what recedes to hollow
sands of life sifted into this short hour
place of togetherness
as they want it to be
one soul into another
Poem written June 6, 2023
Copyright © Brian Sambourne | Year Posted 2023
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