Patricia Carroll Mathes (January 20, 1943 -)
“Thank you for another lovely day,”
you said, as we drove to yet another
These days are hard,
but you make them easier.
The smoke that permeates our clothes,
the darkened rooms smelling of disaster.
The charred remains of two lives
loving books, music, and art.
Two sisters, the sweet and the serious,
resident ladies of South Street.
Their ogee frames blackened,
their likenesses consumed.
The intensity of their lives,
gone with the intensity of heat.
Lives vanish, objects melt,
yet the memory persists.
The resident ladies of South Street.
Their time is past.
My life is now.
To feel, to mourn, to recover,
and to love again.
To know that I love beautiful things.
Yet things are only such.
My life is rich, in love, and in caring,
Knowing so, is the gift.