“That’s life, isn’t it? Getting past the unexpected,
and perhaps learning from it.”
—The Dowager Countess, Downton Abbey
Everyone got what they wanted,
Mary notes at the movie’s end when the old lady
Grantham is carried away between two rows
of faithful servants after dying in a feather
bed surrounded by velvet drapery, cut-lace
silk pillows, and family. She was smiling.
Onward, I could hear, although not spoken,
and while the credits roll, we follow
runway lights through the dark. It is easier
leaving than it had been arriving: The unknown
passage to Row C. Trek made early. Box of malted
milk balls yet uneaten. Anticipation felt as when
a phone is ringing, waiting to be answered.
We have a satisfactory ending now—a new
generation. And, the blank canvas of the theater
screen in this little room lingers ready for its next story.
Mary’s New Era
D. Walsh Gilbert (she/her) lives in Farmington, Connecticut on a former sheep farm at the foot of the Talcott Mountain near the watershed of the Farmington River, previously the homelands of the Tunxis and Sukiaugk peoples and near the oldest site of human occupation in Connecticut dating back 12,500 years. She is the author of six books of poetry, serves on the board of the Riverwood Poetry Series, and as co-editor of Connecticut River Review.