Posted by: cronelogical | April 8, 2007

I try to make a portrait of a friend

My friend Marion on her hundredth birthday
Marion left last year
I can no longer send her word
or thoughts
or memories
yet I still hear her voice,
rich in the lore of her own race
her wide ranging intelligence,
advice I often failed to take
yet knew, and in that knowing grew
a little wiser with my own long years
I miss her, for only Marion could remember
than I was once a child.

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