​Mapping our Hearts 
​
my life like his was
a graph that zig zags
its pattern not
that long flat line
that marks his death
 
my heart and his
our genes
carried on      in children grown
and grandchildren
who filled our table        held our hands
as we grew older
our future            rising in them

as we fell
 
his crooked lines
up and down
EKGs of  his   slow decline
 
pulsing of his heart
now quiet
 
my heart
beating alone

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