Not surprising then, that among all the things, stuff gets overlooked. Yesterday I happened on a partly-filled-in Audubon notebook of my Mum's (I still have her ashes, and Dad's, in little wooden boxes sitting next to each other in a cupboard, and good intentions to scatter them both at Arthur's Pass in the South Island as requested. I just never get around to making the trip). So, I discovered that towards the end of her life, Mum recorded some of her favourite poems or quotes in this notebook with a flamingo on the cover. And I'm going to post one occasionally - the ones I like best.
Some background - my parents met at age 15 in high school and had a happy marriage until their 80s, although the last few years were tough due to Dad's dementia. Also, for many years, Mum was a librarian.
The poet is noted as being Maureen Julian-Miles. I can't find her on the net, so she may be a New Zealand poet: Mum collected things from The Listener, a magazine here. ETA: I located her in the National Library of NZ - she's definitely a NZ poet, and it was from the Listener.
The Librarian's Wife
by Maureen Julian-Miles
Beloved he says
let me bind you and cover you
catalogue/index but not
issue you
let me
examine your text
interrogate your databases
establish finding aids
on your skin
I want to make an inventory
of all of you
he sighs
he kisses her neck
if I were an archivist
I would arrange and describe you
beloved, she says
show me
the Library of Congress.
...