She takes her daily walk


Old and lonely and slightly stooped yet unbowed she takes her daily walk, not for any other reason than it makes her feel good and almost happy, being alive. The grass is green, the air is good to breathe and the sky is blue and has its silver lines, if looking closer. The path under her feet is well-used and easy for her unsteady feet to walk on, she would know it even if walking in sleep. With a bit of luck she will have another day and walk tomorrow and next week too, maybe even to Christmas. If it matters. It matters to her.
Private photo, the path to the ponds nearby my living at the time, October 17, 2016

This entry was posted in aging, Autumn poem, old age, Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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