by mid life, she’s in her nineties. <br />someone has written on her lines. <br />they must have been among the first, to make it there, <br />before the ticker disappeared from the pages. <br /> <br />She still writes with her left hand. <br /> <br />For someone like me, who was not allowed <br />the stages of youth, her ‘she’ is evident. <br /> <br />I study her. <br />The veritable procession of ideas <br />and solid substance that is there. <br />Sure, there’s drama. <br />I stood outside, craned my neck to get a view, <br />holding my own questions <br />with fascination. <br /> <br />in silence, I make ready the crackers. <br /> <br />I miss youth, <br />For once.<br /><br />Eila Mahima Jaipaul<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-she-to-me/
