last night i played hooky - not on purpose - but because how do you stop or even think to stop and write a poem when you are living right in the middle of one? He is 92 and was married for 67 years. What's left of her, besides memories is tucked away in drawers - clip-on earrings, vintage prescription lenses empty bags in side of empty bags. socks. he wants me to have some pieces of hers - gives me gold and diamonds precious metal and stone. i want the tarnished chinese wiseman in the costume jewelry drawer. i will wear it i say until you move into my house - old man. we will grow young together now.