great aunts

i don’t know who will visit me
when i am old

when i can no longer
wield a trowel or spade

when washing dishes drains
much of my strength

when i must wear a brace
to stand up straight

when my knees begin to falter
and my legs get stiff with pain

i don’t know who will visit me
when i am old

but i am not so worried
about that

i am not in a country
far from my first home

the world around me is not
full of incomprehensible strangers

what i worry about
is how seldom i visit

those who have always cared
so much for me

and tell myself to always
make time for those

who’ve cared for me since
i was young

and who in what seems like
just a blink

have suddenly
gotten old

while i’ve been
growing up
growing away

and so now i visit
and i sit
and i listen

trying to make up
for lost time

trying to make
new smiles
new memories

and it breaks my heart
how much these brief moments mean to them
how glad they are to just see my face
how little they ask beyond that