One Hundred and Ninety Two

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THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR A GOOD FRIEND
AFTER HE PASSED AWAY, AS A CHILD HE
KEPT TELLING ME, HE WAS ONE HUNDRED
AND NINETY TWO, WHEN I ASKED HIS AGE

I can see you waiting

at Heaven’s Gate…
Your hand’s stuffed inside
your back pockets…
left leg baring all your weight.

You will be smiling, squinting
into the sun,
You’re wearing a cream
colored sweater, suede
patches at the elbow
and if it were your birthday
you would still be
one hundred and ninety two…

When I rode on your shoulders,
you were one hundred and ninety two…
When you held my wedding veil,
you were one hundred and ninety two…

When my children and their children
were born…
you were one hundred and ninety two…
At Yankee Stadium,
Central Park,
on State Street, Park Place, and
Union Street…

Climbing the back staircase,
lugging groceries …
you were on hundred and ninety two…

Some where in heaven
a little girl sits on your lap
and you’re telling her
how old you are.

Nancy Duci Denofio – all Rights Reserved

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