To The Grave

by Levi Lebsack ‘21

We sit at two adjacent tables 

Both with book in hand

His aged heart and mine of youth share one thing in common

We both have natural tremors

Both of our hands shake

Amplitude reflective of weight in years

This man tremors far more than I

They travel throughout his arm

I know I will become this man

Rough beard and all

But one detail I would change

Rough beard and all

I want her sitting across from me

Holding my free hand with which I do not write

I want my tremors to feel familiar to her

Like an ageless comfort

I want her to know the beat-pattern of my heart

The clock counting my time

Our fruit will be of altruism

Mine will be hers and hers will be mine

We will be the aged fruit 

Of one another’s life

I want to hold her in my arms forever

Loving every imperfect perfection

And she will care for me

Loving every imperfection of my already blemished body

She will take my love to the grave

and I pray I will take hers