the old woman sits on the park bench, alone
with her memories
most vivid, those from long ago
like in 1936, her father teaching her to drive
she still sees the dark gray ‘32 ford cabriolet
smells the black leather seats
and hears the sputtering sound of the engine
as the car climbs the steep hill near their house
fighting the tears, she remembers the ford
sitting in the garage, untouched for 3 months
after her father went off to the war
he never returned from
she still sees the chair, at the head of the table
where her father sat, empty
long after her mother died
now, she sits alone, remembering
small parts of her life, just before
darkness falls on the park bench
and death removes all memories
Poetic Alchemist 