Love’s Familiar Hand

As she had done for sixty years
She reached for his hand
That familiar clasp
It was reassuring, known
With time, soft, wrinkled, more beautiful
And she reached, stretched
But then she remembered
He was but a memory
Like a faded dream
Blurry vision of joy
So she breathed his name
Called to the past
Whispered to longing
And was still with what remained

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