Michael Burch Poems

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See how her hair has thinned: it does not seem /
like hair at all, but like the airy moult /
of emus who outraced the wind and left /
soft plumage in their wake. See how her eyes /
are gentler now; see how each wrinkle laughs, /
and deepens on itself, as though mirth took /
some comfort there and burrowed deeply in, /
outlasting winter. See how very thin /
her features are--that time has made more spare, /
so that each bone shows, elegant and rare. /

For loveliness remains in her grave eyes, /
and courage in her still-delighted looks: /
each face presented like a picture book’s. /
Bemused, she blows us undismayed goodbyes. /

Originally published by Writer’s Digest--The Year’s Best Writing 2003

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