retirement poem

a thousand silent years ago
and still they walked on
were it not for that singular smell
are you alive?
why then, must we see?
if i were very sure
she heard the children playing in the sun
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
since i have felt the sense of death
do the boys and girls still go
see the tentative
one with you