CONTRASTS

Written by: daver austin

CONTRASTS

This old woman
Is in her rocker,
Looking off,
With absent expression,
With lost affections,
In the sagging mouth,
Behind the eyes.

Tired, white hands rest,
One clutching a bit of fruit.
A shawl about those fragile shoulders barely warms.

She’s in a garden – inhabiting –
Head seeming to rest on a gnarled old tree,
Flowers and leaves so summer young,
Hidden mysteries everywhere,
Cloudless day, without a care.

Oh, the contrast disturbs, sickens!
The intrusion!
The inner rattle!

One struggles against ire, against pity,
Sensing both the beauty, and the decay.