Her Time

The older woman sat alone
Underneath a breathtaking willow
It appeared to be raining down around her 
Weeping, as it’s known to do
Cloaking her in privacy

Around her is an aura of brightness 
She is dressed simply 
Her gray hair is loosely pulled up shed behind her
She radiates a beauty 
Not typical of contemporary measures 

Her hands are sturdy 
They have seen hard times 
Prayed and wiped away tears 
They have felt sadness and love 
Hands that have held so many 
Expressed joy and pleasure 
Her hands are full of wisdom and memories 

As I watch, her fingers lightly touch the blades 
Offering her story through her touch 
She doesn’t see me 
This is her time

I am unable to turn my gaze 
Feeling drawn to this woman 
Imagining her story 
Wishing to be a part of it 
Sharing in the beauty of her existence

Copyright © Susan Rigo | Year Posted 2019

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