Restraint

Like a leaf
pressed
between yellowing pages,
life
is pushed
from either side
by time and lament,
yet reveals.
 
In his late seventies now,
one winter evening,
he holds the leaf,
or a distant memory of it,
against the streaming light
from the kitchen window.
The horror of veins
revealed
against the scramble
of forgotten words.
 
Silent mutter
under his breath,
icy wind
slapping against his pale cheeks,
the house cat
moves like a spirit
around his scrawny legs.
 
The leaf
crumbles.