Waiting In Line


frosted lens one secret eye,

it’s time almost gone,

other vibrant blue watery,

she waited to be served

packaged meals enough for

a few days,

tremors with age

cellular collapse,

life’s abrupt stoop to spine,

coat drawn snug,

cold reaches more easily

through mottled paper,

her turn,

trolley a support to feet

more unsteady than an infant,

red leather handbag

leather fashion for forty years

cracked and glazed,

pleased to talk to the assistant

juddering conversation,

sprawled out topics of conversation

no linear trail,

topics of weather,

her husband passed twenty years,

lack of pension,

always broke,

children dispersed seed unconnected

and when she was younger

flew planes in the Pacific

a job few knew of,

no government medal,

yet she offered her life

as she did now to survival,

gnarled arthritic hands

struggled with notes and coins

tomorrow a fragile

premise

 

14 thoughts on “Waiting In Line

  1. Really sad story of something that is all to common – why do we allow this and fail to realise that we too will be old some day…

    Thank you for this wonderul but sad write.

    Anna :o]

    Like

  2. Heart-breaking. So much changes for an individual over the years, doesn’t it? She once flew planes over the Pacific. Look at her now! Who knows what the future holds for any of us?

    Like

  3. wow…she is quite the survivor and you captured her life story a bit in this…really cool on your descriptions…i can see her…the paper coat as well…i bet she could tell a story or two you know…

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s