Two golden buttons
in a grey silk cloud,
tiny suns over threads
and dances of leaves.
She went out forever
that summer afternoon
which drowned its light blue
fire in the dark pond.
When she disappeared
round the corner,
looking for a fresh pallet
of ivy and moss
where her old eyes
could rest at last,
to put on two stones
smoothed by the morning
dew. Small sphinx, perhaps
now you are standing guard
over my childhood's memories.