What Is In Your Dash?
By an alleyway a big black tarp stole my glance
The old lady on it had a wide toothless grin
That which held me steadfast in mesmerizing trance
While my wondering mind goes into a free spin
The two years below her face marked her birth and death
Her name above them told me as much in a flash
Beyond that I knew none of the moments she breath
That all but was set to an in-between dash
Two years that to passing strangers define her time
Her name, her face– seemingly make the image whole
But a single dash carries all that was her prime
Meaningless to all but kindred who knew her soul
I moved on with my steps but my mind wondered still
When I pass and body returns to earthly ash
When family and friends read my two years– they will
Would they know and appreciate what is in my dash?
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