I see a she-ro on our garden trails.
A partner holding hands across the years—
A friend for life whose friendship never fails.
Through miles and smiles; through passions, fashions, tears.
She lopes along the ledge of midnight light.
She leaps across the gap I did not see.
She wields a shield of sharing, insight, right.
She wings through air; derives infinity.
Through every turning twisting happenstance,
Through ice and fire; though melody rises and falls;
Progressions of rhythm for intemperate dance—
The hawk still sings and swings on echo walls.
A “Destination Wedding” it was not.
Co-travelers for our life is what we got.
———-
How the Nightingale Learned to Sing
petersironwood 