She was
ruminating
among us.
It bore its way
softly—
as a breaking dawn—
to our small band
and to her
that she hadn’t meant
to do this,
to declare her treasures
and share her travels
so quietly, forcefully.
The keepsakes for us
were the incidentals
of how she came
to be here,
how the events
unfolded—
led to our
little assembly
and why she
believed we
belonged together
in the undertaking—
our agenda withered,
our real work,
begun.

–Allan Cox