The Old Woman on Winchester Street: A Poem
She is as frail as the flowers she picks
But still nimble enough to appear young
Time has swindled her mind and her beauty
But her eyes still flash with perception
She attends her garden, which her beloved had sown
So many years past
Now heavy with grass and thistle
Yet she daily walks the overgrown rows
Plucking invisible blossoms from her past
Published by Scott Bauer
Novelist, poet, and an average guy who has happened to have done more than most. Now taking the time to figure out just what I have done and why... View profile
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