The way we coax the weight from one another’s shoulders,
understand the end of the depths of our strengths,
void our swollen aches, carry together our
weariness. You and me—
xerophytes if there ever were. Tough and wiry
yellow-never
zacatons
abiding in hope,
bending enough to avoid the break.
Choosing to choose each other—
deciding to,
even in the
fight. Saying
good night, and meaning it,
hands cupped around the last light
in case it really is
just like that—because you never
know.
Leaning in to steady each other
mostly since we’ve grown
not
old, but gold.
Plus, we’ve never looked sharper—with our
quick wits and silver foxiness,
right? You and me, to a tee, like the kids used to
slang—
tight.
© 2026 Jennifer Wagner
Written for Laura’s dVerse Abecedarian challenge
Photo © Jennifer Wagner