Namesake

She sat with both of her hands on the arms of the chair
and called out our name with us both turning back.
“Little Aaron” she once would call me, with hair like golden sun,
with eyes lost like an unanswered question, wandering in wondering.
Then in came the tides taking with it the time
leaving only its shells scattered pleasantly by the bay.
A sailor once were you, and a drifter still am I,
though bound we are, by cannon’s side,
both by our name and eye.
She lay on the sofa with her hands resting still
and called out our name with us both asking, “Yes?”
“Little Aaron” still she called me, though it appeared as though
things had changed,
for I stood next to you standing taller in height,
with hair like the sand and eyes that began to finally understand.
Then in came the winds taking with it the time
leaving only the palms that it took from the trees.
A husband once were you, and a child still am I,
though bound we are, by headstone’s side,
both by our name and mind.
Our name was given to you, and bequeath it will you to me,
and through your eyes as the sake of your name,
I hope that one day I may see;
oh, I hope that one day I may see.