The Ancient Modern
Here And In A Thousand / Joshua Alan Sturgill
The woman on the patio looks
as you would have. Her face
more rounded, creased
with all the junctions
you would have untangled.
Her arms and hips
a little heavier as she walks
through your portion
of the estate. Her hands
flash and shimmer
in the afternoon sunlight,
making little birds
of the gestures
you used to make.
She speaks with your
compassionate smile
and that’s your music
in her voice. I thought
your absence would forever
be a silence. But now I see
how generous you are. Here
and in a thousand conversations
they go on living: all the words
you graciously left unsaid