Here and Then

I do, her first words to me

without her mouth moving

except to smile.

No ring on her hand

but I can feel it, cool

against her warm skin

as I slide it on.

Hi, she says

but I hear Let’s name him James

for her Grandfather, the great-grandson

he will never meet

in her arms for the first time

naked and unblemished.

Hi, I say

but taste the words

I have loved you forever

under the percussion of rain.

I tap my feet to prove I’m here

maybe just not now.

She smiles again and I am warm

whenever I am.

I am here with her

learning her name

and the art of her face.

Or this is a memory,

a tale told to wild-haired

grandchildren gripping my knee.