At eighty-six
She’s learned to be indulgent
Of other people’s indulgence—
The way the young smile
when they think she’s not looking
And the polite way they nod,
while only half listening,
To the stories she tells (her old woman’s fancies)
Of how she too was young once,
With skin soft and unwrinkled,
Riding a paint horse, her dark hair in braids,
And how she was a rebel (her father be damned)
Who dared love a cowboy from Paradise, Texas.
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I have enjoyed my time reading Your exceptional poetic
compositions.
I know that Emerson and Robert Frost would recommend Your writings.
I salute You, Poet.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Beautiful. We could learn much if we'd listen to our elders...well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Every life has a story to tell and every story has a life it holds. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.