Her Hands Are Stronger Now Poem by RIC BASTASA

she greets you by the door. She knows you are coming.
Her heart pounds for you.
She shows the room. It looks for you for many years.
Now she brags the room is alive.
she opens the window and lets the air
and the trees know that you are here finally.
they all talk about you know.
they nod, you are no longer a dog.
Or a parakeet.
The chair opens its arms for you.
You take your seat.She asks you if you miss coffee.
Black coffee, without sugar.
You look around. There is nothing changed here.
20 years ago, all the structures are faithful
to their positions.
They miss you and like to embrace you.
She is restrained like a dam.
No tears this time.
Not even some tears of joy.
She knows why you are here.
The room, the tree and the window,
the floors are blind.

She knows that this will be the last time
of your compromise.
She is dead 20 years back
when you told her
about the truth.

How can she feel like the room, the floor,
the tree and the window
How can she be as foolish as air and cloud?

Her hands are strong now.
They write her name, her signature to sorrow.
Her heart notes the final statement.

Life is over.
Game is over.