Nan


She is kindness.

She shows me how it looks,

how it breathes,

how it feels.


Her years are not defined by what the paper says,

nor what is held in her mind.

Her years are not defined by where she lives

but by what lives inside her.

The tenderness

ever-present in her eyes.

The compassion

in the softness of strong hands.

And the love

that lives in response

to endless

gentle

words.


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