Trials

A man may heal, yet still recall,

The moments when he felt so small.

Not riches gained, nor battles won,

But how she stood, or turned to run.

When shadows pressed and nights grew long,

Her touch could break him, or make him strong.

For kindness lingers, sharp as flame,

And cruelty carves a deeper name.

The heart remembers, never blind,

The gentleness or cold design.

A man holds close, through loss or cost,

How she remained, or what was lost.

So let the measure, tried and true,

Be how she loved when trials blew.

For etched upon his soul will stay,

The way she chose to walk that day.

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Kennedy Odhiambo