<html aria-label="message body"><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><div dir="auto" style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">The Life You Gave Me</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">for my grandfather</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">It could not fit in a velvet box with a</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">velour ribbon tied twice nor could it be worn,</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">an evening gown blue as the generous, sad sea.</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">Not a stone, not a car, not a dog with pleading</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">eyes to please get the bone before it’s gone forever.</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">It wasn’t green, it didn’t sing but started quiet</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">as an egg splitting in the waters. Not chapped hands</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">in winter, not webs behind the bed, not the pitch</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">perfect way oaks whip in a storm.</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">Listen to this gift burn. Air coming and going</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">in a nostril. Upper eyelid drooped and creased,</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">a delicate gate. The way I open the door with my left,</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">close it with my right. Footfall on tile. You watching me</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">in my dreams, reaching your eyes out as if to say</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">take it, I don’t need it where I’m going</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">arms laden with white roses, one for each year</span><br style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 22px;">you lost, one for each of mine.</span><div style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br></span></div><div style="font-size: 22px;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Clare Drucker</span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 22px; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-size: 22px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">(Clare Drucker is Sonoma County’s new Poet Laureate.)</span></div></div></body></html>