Here marches an old lady,
Vera Lynn and memories of war,
Hair fell out when she passed 80,
Kidneys and boiled cabbage,
Carpets damp,
Husband dead,
Children long-gone,
But she’s happy,
Stoic in her lot -
The walking stick her friend -
Pausing to genuflect briefly at acquaintances who nod,
Birds fly by,
The sun sings,
Invisible to the naked eye:
But my eye’s not naked.
Old Lady
This is a verse of the poem "As I walked home". Buy the book here
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