let me be a woman aging softly
By Donna Hill

let me be a woman aging softly
as time wraps me
invisibly

time that has silently slipped
from my wrists
sweet lack of relevance
care or concern
as it blends into
southern
winds

fallen from my walls
into tinkling
heap
makings for another
intricate piece of jewelry

let me hear again
your laughter in harmony
intricacy of thought
trace through my being

smiles shared
fingers entwined

words that paint me
violet by day

leave your gentle face
stamped on every page
of my sleep