Old Woman

11-15-09 11:39 PM

Pedals of every color line the street.
The hustle of people, deep in their routine.
It is here where they slow down.
They stop.
They admire.

 

There she stands, before her door step,
smiling.
All the greetings on a sunny morning
could never be counted on one hand.

 

But no longer.

 

Every red petal has turned to grey.
The bustling people don't want to stop
only to stare upon the reminder.

 

So they continue
on with their days
no longer slowing.

 

And she smiles.