An article in my newsfeed says you must have at least 8 times your highest annual salary invested to plan for retirement. My kitchen floor linoleum is falling apart and the cupboards are sagging, still I wouldn’t do things differently.
Times you wrote to legislators
and marched in rallies, hoping
to speak for a more gentle world.
Extra cheer put into your voice
when needy relatives called, placing them
before your obligation-clotted calendar.
Energy expended on healthy meals,
good causes, sustainable choices,
hugs before leaving.
The largest investments being your ability
to walk with a colicky infant
for hours, to recite by heart the words
to Where The Wild Things Are,
to watch as children discovered
beetles, trees, archeology, myth.
Many nights you stood in their doorways,
your whole being filled by their breathing,
by their warm dreaming bodies,
leaving you wealthy beyond measure.
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