They say light
Restores memory
I see
Through this hoarder’s house–

Old newspapers
Moldy books
And the lovely curves
Of antique chests and bed frames
Buried in the dust

At the end she lived only in the kitchen, bathroom, cluttered dining room
Still the afternoon light
Tunnels through

Somehow

All old women
(Now bent trees) were once
Young and lovely

….children
If you could tip the hour glass back
Shake the sand down to make time go
Upward

I would still be
thin and hopeful
Standing beneath borrowed shelter in a
Temporary wedding dress

Know now this–
Only the true king
Can make a single seamless garment
Into shelter