Ninety-three years.
A near century.
Who was I when
I met Dom, decades
and decades past,
in another world?
Seventy years
together. Children
born and passed on,
grandchildren saved and
slipped away, great-
grandchildren to start
the cycle once
more. Every sight you
can imagine,
I saw it. Every
emotion you
could feel, I burned with.
Every mistake,
I made. My dearest
children of dust,
life is short and long.
You did what you
could. Leave it now. Rest.