too old to see; too young to die
she hunches over
as people pass her by.
perhaps in the midst of
sips of tea
she allows her mind
to wander free.
[dancing through cataract-clouded memories]
snapshots of earthen
grassy hills
where she sipped her fill
of joy.
images of sapphire
silken streams
where she fell in love
with a boy.
outlines of strength in her
daddy’s hands
as he gave her the courage
to dream.
hints of the scents
of morning glory mist
when the world was more
than it seemed.
snippets of sugar
on the tip of her tongue
as she fed her horse
a piece.
moments of madness
as she danced around
and followed the lure
of caprice.
yet all she feels now is
the cold in her bones
and the way time has passed her so soon.
and all she sees
is the darkness deep
and the outline of a sunny afternoon.
there’s not enough time
to heal her heart
and not enough strength
to cry.
so she sips her tea
on an empty street
as people pass her by.