.
She still remembers
his deep embrace
in the open entryway
.
and the salty taste of urgency
on the tongue
of an April day
.
and their offering
to the gods
as it hung in the sun to dry
.
to fluff and fold,
but tenderly —
in the wrinkles of goodbye.
.
.
(c) 2019 Betty Hayes Albright
.
