I can hear what time has done to you
From your knees, as you creaked into
The living room with tea;
You put the pot down
Like a two-hundred pound dumbbell,
And relieved of the burden collapsed on the couch
This from the woman who bore me around
On her hip, lifted mountains of laundry,
Pulled me through the parts of life
I couldn't face alone,
Here you are brought low
By a teapot and the thought of dishes
You're worried, and you wear it
Just behind your smile so only I,
Your over-attentive son can see it
But I am not,
I can see the beauty in you still
You are exactly as you should be;
Worn yes,
But also softened by the storms you've weathered,
And falling apart slowly and with much grace
Like the maple leaves in autumn
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