A Golden Circle

Small lines cover the surface

of my sun-drenched hands.

A white chicken pox scar

has survived for fifty years.

Nails – short, neat, unadorned.

My hands have lived.

On my left hand,

on the second finger from the left,

rests a narrow, inexpensive golden band.

I love this circle of gold —

delicate beading so fine

it shimmers,

rings the edges of the band.

In my youth,

the simple golden ring

had companions —

an engagement ring

with three large, sparkling diamonds,

an anniversary band from Tiffanys,

wrapped round with diamonds.

But today,

on a warm afternoon

it is the slight gold band

that remains.

Love endures.

It does not need to be showy

or loud or possessive.

Love is best

when it is pure heart.

Love shines in the small moments,

in the gentle reminder

resting on the warm brown

of my strong hand.

5 thoughts on “A Golden Circle

  1. I love the last stanza. I could imagine the words spoken as vows said between two life partners.
    “Love endures.

    It does not need to be showy

    or loud or possessive.

    Love is best

    when it is pure heart.

    Love shines in the small moments,”

    Like

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