Alice

In your ninety-third year of life you are crouched over the bones that have taken you across the world.
They have finally grown tired from all the lives you have saved and the hugs that you gave.
Teeth long lost, replaced with new; too perfect to be true.
Hair gone but once it was long
And though parts of you may be fading away, your beauty has never been forgotten.

Your eyes speak the stories of your youth, still so keen and clear - willing you to ask
Where have you been and what have you seen?
Your days have now become woven together,
Flowing without intermission -
No gaps, as you watch the fast world moving around your slow shifting body.

I met you in the street and you spoke of your life, your childhood; the splendor and the strife.
Dates rolled of your tongue as you have told your story more than once.
It is simply finding the ear willing to listen.
With all the time in the world and so many accounts to tell
You inspired a poem, with words that flow so well.