Weave between the lines you see; search for what lies beyond,
the portal to a life lived four score years plus ten and then four more.
Cocooned in a chair, reduced in presence and time as synapse fade
but within those four walls a human soul beats on,
memoir script upon her face, invites us as witness, scribe to her life.
Touch gently that place, the trigger to find, a flicker of recognition
lights up the entree to memories, illuminated, transported in time.
Each crease, every fold of sagging, mottled skin belies a chapter,
an experience gained, a lesson learned, heartbreak and joy.
As a pebble dropped in stagnant pond, ripples radiate
as rings in a trunk strip back the years in lucid clarity.
Hesitant at first, then like a wave memories flow
to wash upon the shore where long held dreams splash forth
and like a child she dances once more.