They told me she wept as she left the house
For the very last time, casting a sad eye
Over the floors and stairs that now lay
Empty, devoid of even cardboard boxes
I think she may have felt ancient
Draping fingers over her wrinkles
Shocked at how the years flew
Unchecked by her consciousness
I picture her looking at her husband
No words needed to pass between them
Eventually he says something routinely
Meaningless, just to hide from that moment
I see her walking, slower and heavier
Than her years would merit, almost
Stalling, trying to just delay the
Inevitable departure
