Fran Graham

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.