We Are Drowning, How Should We Kill Our Time?

26

 I will keep you alive in my eyes and in whatever pairs of eyes come after; my eyes, I look to you through their reflection on the window sill of the retirement home, you're so far from home - skin papery not sun tanned eyes looking towards pavement instead of olive groves eyes vacant the door slides open for the first time in three months and the sunset sets into your smile I haven't seen you smile in months so I take your wheelchair and push you down to the side of the river I remember hiking mountaintops with you back home I remember pulling over into the side of the road so you could show me where you used to sleep under the trees watching over flocks of animals that soil has your history in it this soil you moved to for me to have a better life but my footprints don't press on pavement my feet are still stretched back there in the old marble home and your feet are even deeper stretched back in tethers tied around your heart across the ocean I will never forget your sacrifice when you tucked your own language under your tongue and learned another one when you worked your fingers to the bone so mine could rest comfortably when you put the sunlight away and brought the shovels out only in July and August when the gardens bloomed but your eyes still looked over the horizon over the Atlantic your soul calling it's still calling, my soul calls in the same way in the same song you look at me today and say my name slowly so it brings tears to your eyes you will always be my favourite person and we used to have mountains to climb but today we have one stretch beside the water, not too far not too fast, but you tell me every plant and bird we pass and we cannot cover surfaces but we can cover depth because this one path of grass is deeper to me than most hours in my life because seeing it through your eyes gives it layers of significance we look out towards the river it isn't the same colour of blue as the one you want to see but this is what we have now and there is not much for us to do anymore but sit in silence like this you hardly say a thing I can feel your exhaustion set over our shoulders so we pick a pink flower and we smell it and I carry it in my hair and there are so many stories I want to tell you before you're gone and so many things I wanted to do but we have this one stretch of green and I can't find all the words I wanted to say anymore but you say my name and that is enough