To age and die
Natural, beautiful
Meant
But for her,
Lain waste to no clock
Only her smile has turned ashen,
Pale,
For what to smile about
When all whom she loved,
Is long since past?
She sits under the Bradford pears
Watching the snow of white, falling petals
Remembering a hundred years ago
When the old downtown was new
The streets were dirt and brick
She remembers a warm August day
When she watched them paint a Lady
on the side of a new, brick building
To advertise Tuxedo Tobacco
A good day then
She goes there still, to look at that Lady
Even the mural gets to fade
But not she
She faces
The Ravages Of Time~Less