The Stairs at Belfast Library

An old woman sits,

her body like granite,
stiff and cold.
The spaces between the joints have been patched.
It was a rough job but she assures herself that it is only noticed
if someone gets too close.
The tinted powder brushed over her face,
an attempt at capturing a little of her youth back,
is rubbing off in spots.
From a distance however,she is quite attractive.
Still, she sighs, there are age spots
like a persistent mildew
settling deep in her skin. And
just yesterday she noticed
a yellowish stain beginning as well.
She smiles despite this, it is after all
a part of aging, that which makes her
a landmark in this little town.
In the neighborhood old friends have
passed on or had face lifts,
new friends are moving in
sporting the latest trends in fashion.
But the old lady remains a constant,
waking each morning to sweep the cobwebs from her face,
place a dress that looks much like a garden, on her body.
She seems content in knowing that we all age
but it is important to find beauty and usefulness in the
wake of it. After all, she might not be structurally sound
but she is sturdy enough to get the job done.
And for her, as well as the people who pass her everyday,
it is enough.