In April, for my Old Lady

In April, for my old lady:


Your old bones are showing,
As you jingle and clatter. You
Are thirsty every hour, no food
Is enough. Once I prayed for
Your long life.


It was given


And I prayed for you to
Return to me.


And you came back.


You ran sleek in summer,
With long deer legs, not
Strong. Your eyes shone
In connection, as earth flew
Behind you.


Once, a wolf dug a hole
In your side.


It was sewn.


You walked with horses,
Bared your teeth.


Now,


Your old bones are telling
Me that I might be the one
Who sees you out.

Now I pray that I will find
You silent, still, curled
On the old towel you prefer to
A bed.


I will hang your tag on my wall,
Wrap you in cloth,
Offer food for your journey,
Spread flowers over you,
Cover you with earth,
Leave you in an old place
I can always find.