An Old Woman In New England

  

The fractured vase now stands alone

Once held the roses of this home

Withered bouquet pastel and dry

Painful memories that never die

For beauty sweet is but a day

To gaze upon then look away

Ashamed to age then bend and fall

Be less considered if seen at all

Useless wisdom this lore of Fate

Befalls each person poor or great

Counted out while counting down

Trapped within an aging frown

Old Man Winter has no heart

He lives to tear dim hopes apart

Broken pieces upon the floor

Please don't glue me anymore

I shan't hold water anyway

Please this time sweep me away.

  

   Ciera S. Louise c. Feb. 25, 2005