104 were the years
Etched in the skin
On your hand,
Clutching mine,
A hand once soft
Like the silk of your robe,
Flowery pink and purple,
Where my finger traces
The design of the blooms,
Round and round,
So soft and silky,
As your breathing slows,
One,
Two,
None,
And
Your hand loosens,
Your skin softens,
Like the silk of
Your birthday robe,
Your last gift forever,
Happy birthday, Auntie,
May you always wear robes of
Silk.
