The Old Woman

The Old Woman

Standing still at the stop
The old woman tripped
I reached out a tentative hand
She had a firm grip
“Thank you” she said

We stood side by side in the little shade
Watched as the mid-day heat relented
And birds took to the skies
She said nothing
Neither did I

Her silence spoke to me
Of a long life
Of happiness, sadness
Of disaster and redemption
Of failure and success
Of possibilities unencumbered by age

The next bus went nowhere I cared for
She got on the bus.
“Thank You” I said.


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