for John Newlove
The first time I saw you, heard you read
I found you old beyond your years
to my surprise
You wore your frailty poorly –
the timbre of your voice, your hands
trembling as leaves must before they fall
I wished you‘d let me stand behind you
place my arms under your arms
my hands under your hands
We would be strong together
and it would look as though your hands
turned the pages with ease as you read
But I would not speak for you
No, your words are…well…
yours to say as long as you can
and then for us to read to ourselves
alone
JC Sulzenko