Ammi

There are times of vacancy the between of fingertip and key
thought, thought-break and thought again
the routined interruptions of routine
times of passing
when the world watches me
and I feel you watch the world;
you are resident
not so much in memory
as in eye
in gesture
and the mannerisms of humour
and feigned agitation,
and I lament
that I cannot touch my feet
in venerating you;
that much is different
yours were tender,
so tender on the eye and my hands.

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