to like better?

when I was 22

I wrote you a poem

about driving around a curve

and the lovely

poet Akhamatova

still good,

but I am a harder

woman now

that I know that the Easter Island heads

have hands and legs and navels

history has changes us

all

and for me

it has created

a book of pictures

you and me in various places

sometimes Dad is there.

as I lift the last handful

of sand and let it slip through my fingers

like an hourglass

watching Time

slip away.

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