COMFORT MEMORY

I feel you today, your face sliding over mine.

Your quiet sadness and detachment

while you sit and peel potatoes,

next to me at the table

in our yellow kitchen with the tv on.

I watch your hands deftly work,

feel you holding my hand as we cross the street

to the safety of the other side.

Those hands oft ignored, yet working so hard

gifting me, us with your strength

guidance and love.

I held your hand as you took your last breath

still feeling warm, soft and giving.

My heart sings with this hold

I still have

of you.

                                                                  Pat Tashjian