Remembering My Aunt Part 3.....I Look at You

 RETURNING HOME


    I want to tell you a
    gentlest thing. Like light
    to you. Like old faces
    being fed a good memory
    from inside themselves.
    Like eyes that do not
    watch but slowly meet
    across a room in which
    everyone is, and no one
    need hurry to what he is
    sure of. I want to say
    before we run out of
    rooms and everyone
    that I am slowest,
    surest, gentlest, too,
    across whatever room
    I look at you.