Old Woman

A wise old man
closer to the exit door
may see the image in his mind
carved in stone, when all was perfect

or perhaps not at all,
for the highs and lows
of life come slowly and for us
do not last long.

I don’t know when that moment was,
when the world was mine
and all would last tomorrow and tomorrow
and I was at my height

for just a moment
then it passed
leaving me to realize
that nothing lasts forever.

And now an old woman;
in the mind’s eye
still a radiant beauty,
also passed her moment of perfection

she too
like me
almost at the end of her career
the baleful sound of Gabriel’s trumpet near.

My mind falls silent and no longer asks
if the joy or pain is more; the sight of her
calls forth the end of days
yet gives me great delight.

.