Photo of Two Nonagenarians in the Park
My two uncles met in the shady park,
one from Dad’s side, one from Mom’s.
Both had white hair, receding-hair lines
silver glasses, paper-thin skin,
and crescent-moon smiles.
One sat with his hands resting on his cane,
the other stood with hands in pockets.
One has since passed on to meet his brother,
my dad. I think of all their past years
and the five nieces they had in common.
And I wish we would have known them better.