For even during your final summers,
the engine of your life

literally working its little heart out,
could not adequately heat your chilled self,

did not warm your hands and feet,
kept you swaddled in fleece and warm slippers

on the most blazing days.
As the temperature finally starts to drop

after a few days of cooling rain, I am thankful
that you do not have to endure another winter.

I think of your essence, which was never cold,
you who offered enduring comfort to everyone

in your embracing orbit, a generous circumference
around all your beloveds

who feel your warmth
still.

•••

For Margery Thompson (1946–2025) on the day her family
and friends celebrate her remarkable life.