If I look behind me as an old woman,
silvered and tired, plump and forgotten
honored and pitied, floating on the ice,

The days were long at times, youth spent angry
at the injustice that was stability unrecognizable by my
troubled adolescent mind.

Praise this moment I sit within, the air warms my arms,
my belly full, coffee hot, praise this moment, yes.

When I look back as an old woman I hope to find all the days
I savored each day left with my son, listening to his whispers through a closed bedroom door, waiting for a glimpse as he passes from room to room.

As an old woman will there finally be no more injustice? Will people know it is all about their own hard work? Make the world for your self, especially now. We all gotta eat, and ain't no one can take THAT  away.

looking back now, I missed all the chances, running forward.