Poem no.2 : This time is ours

We sit together and I hold your hand;
Cauled in a silence
That falls between us like a winter snow.
Sometimes words elude you –
Sometimes you speak but the meaning is not clear.
Then wordless touch calls you here, to me;
And so we sit together and I hold your hand.

Your slender fingers arc and curl in mine
And, braille-like, patiently,
I trace your history in each worn palm.
Those hands toiled a generation;
Graceful craftsman’s fingers
Hardened and calloused
By more than you were called to do.

You mended fences, built new byres,
Patiently grew crops and daughters,
Worked from sun to sun,
Then told us stories as we fell asleep.

Now, caught in the mist of long-forgotten days,
I have become your anchor to the present moment.
This time, this present moment, is what we have.
And so we sit together and I hold your hand.

(c) Anne McMaster 2016