Kenneth C. Steven
Old Woman
And so she ages by the day.
The threads that wove the fabric of her mind
Fray one by one and will not mend -
She is far away in her thoughts.
Once she was beautiful, and knew it;
Once her blood’s fire burned in a man's veins
Night after night, and her colours
Enflamed the coals of his heart.
Who may see that now,
When the nurses bring her things and swear
Behind her back because she cannot hold
A spoon, or manage all the stairs?
Inside her yet, beneath the autumn-wrinkled face
She lies, the girl she was: the dreams, the dance, the light,
Not dead, but sleeping, still alive and clear
To those who know to look beneath the skin.
Page(s) 126
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