An Appreciation of Old Women
I open my mouth to speak ten words,
but you interrupt with your five more
after walking away in a huff. I resist a ‘call to arms’
to give your space, for understanding; you don’t,
you never have, you never will. You see only those
your age, your sex; uncomplicated, unqualified; you do not see my side,
your own mother’s beliefs don’t count, don’t deserve
pause or possible annotation (stet). You’ve built the wall
of unknown experiences before your eyes and will not
take off those shades.
Won’t you be surprised, at 65, when you read my letters to you, and realize
how right I was? How life could have been so much sweeter if you’d listened to me
when I’d offered my advice?
I don’t talk just to hear myself, but to pass on the wisdom I have learned
by listening.
© Catherine Woods 2017
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