sense

There is a part of me
that never wants change
a part that wonders
where is my mother
where are my little children
where is my youth
where have my possibilities
gone

There is a part of me
that avoids
clocks
calendars
photo albums
any thing that reminds me
the present is not the past
that tomorrow
this too shall pass

There is a part of me
that shuns mirrors
as I always expect
to see a younger face
a child me
not my mother
not my grandmother

There is a part of me
that refuses
to accept
we are grown up
a part
that
never
will

This part watches
for robins in spring
and fireflies in summer
it listens
for crickets in august
and school buses in september
it sniffs the air
for burning leaves in autumn
and turkey at thanksgiving
it hungers for candy cane at christmas
and champagne at new years
it waits for the feeling
of snowflakes on eyelashes
and Valentine kisses

This part
is the immutable
living core
of me

It is
for this part
that the rest of me
keeps going
for one more
flash
chirp
smell
taste
touch