How late our lives have moored up side by side.
I, in my seventies, you, in your eighties;
a coming together of deep accord.
My world is suddenly richer
as the power of your giving
fires up ambition in me
I thought was dead.
As you present your wealth of gathered facts
to eager learners,
I watch and notice
rather than listen,
feel rather than hear,
marvel at the mystery
of such a small woman
holding so much knowledge,
such erudition.
You have declared me your assistant.
I am puffed with purpose as
layers of myself I thought depleted
have plumped up again.
In quiet times I think of you
presenting in your retro chic,
me carrying your equipment
to your car afterwards
as you munch on a biscuit
scooped up from the morning tea table
on your way out.
As I hug you
crumbs fall on my shirt front, and yours,
and this slender new alliance
hums with potential.