Who's That?
by Veronica Biblarz

Her frail body moves inside the captivity of age
She flashes a faint smile at the sweethearts out the window
The lipstick, stained on her teeth, enhances her beauty
Her gray hair falls into her eyes
She wisps it out, leaving the smell of perfume in the air
She sits, she waits, she lives day to day
Her white shoes ache her brittle body
She reaches to the molded candy dish to soothe her pain
Her weathered hands can still hold yours
The corner of her rickety wooden home is filled with memories
A picture of me, a picture of you, a picture of … wait, who’s that?
She has collections of everything
Someone’s trash, was always her treasure
She now sleeps in the shadow of the world she is too small to face
Her kind voice will ring in the ears of loved ones through generations
The rocking chair in the den will bring sweet comfort in times of sorrow
She is free from captivity, instead, in an endless sea of warmth


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Poem Copyright © 2008 by Veronica Biblarz

 

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