on the very last visit,
(the one before the call 
and the rush to her bedside
to wait)

she said, “why don’t you just take it,’
and pointed to the teeny golden shape
behind glass on a shelf
that she knew i eventually wanted.

(she must have somehow known 
her time was near)

an elephant, one of many gifted to her
over the years by those who knew 
she had lived in a village 
in rural south asia

and loved these gentle giants
back when they would amble through
the village, and one must be aware
that tigers still roamed free.

yet this pachyderm was made
in a different exotic place,
formed with the shells of bullets 
from a despot’s terrible reign.

it was repurposed and brought by her son
(who later became my husband)
and treasured ever since
—a reminder that love always, always 
conquers hate.

and now it sits near my bedside,
next to the photo of us mere minutes after
he got down on one knee to propose
to this widow in south asia, but in an
urban place 

where we later lived and rubbed shoulders 
with women inexcusably harmed and 
were honoured to watch them 
remember that love conquers hate
every time. 

	—tapestry of life


heather pound 2025