Memory's Shadow

Few embrace the senior years for fear of loss. Some believe there’s some magic there as well.

Memory’s Shadow
             by Odin Roark

There was a time
She’d float beside him
Their footsteps in sync
Their heartbeats in unison

Even at midnight
Central Park imbued their love
With colors and honeysuckle fragrance
Lake’s shimmering moon-mirror
Sending ripples through enjoined hands

But oh the face

She knew not a grimace
Nor any sadness
Her smile
Hope’s subtlety
Passion’s caretaker

Time passed

Clouded skies
Like cataracts of mind
Faded that lovely face
Their fantasy stroll
Became but silhouette

And still…

A bench remained
To sit
Dream
Listen to each other’s breath
While rustling leaves
Drifted away

Seasons passed
Strolls became nurse-chaperoned
Movement by wheelchair
Breath by oxy-caddy

His bench still stands
Warm to the touch
His nurse always stops for him to listen
As memory’s shadow whispers
 “May I hold your hand?”