Friday, June 30, 2017

An old woman from another century

An old woman from another century
crossed Sandy Boulevard
as I waited for the light
black skirt falling below her knees
black stockings, black shawl
black kerchief too big for her head
pocketbook over one arm
shopping bag over the other
she looked plucked
from Corsica or Sicily

The age showed in her walk
the stride of youth long gone
as it is in me too
although I still pretend

There are other old women on foot
in my neighborhood
frequent enough to look familiar
heavyset Russians
in mismatched clothes
from the 70s
pulling little carts behind them
homeless, toothless women
pushing a big cart in front of them

But this little crow of a woman
looks collaged onto Sandy
with its cannabis billboards
and Subaru traffic

The light stays red
and I wonder what language she speaks
and what memories lie
in that heart and body
I wonder too if she will buy
any of the same things
I am on my way to buy

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