That Old Woman.... (Sunset) Poem by Eric Cockrell

that old woman who walks naked
in the garden at night...
stepping barefoot on fallen petals,
leaving her footprints in the dew damp earth.
who feeds all the cats in the neighborhood,
and pours a little bourbon in her coffee.
who uses the same cup and plate everyday,
and likes to read just before dawn.
who smokes unfiltered Pall Mall's,
and keeps all her pictures turned down.
whose phone is always off the hook,
whose lips are alway moving...
that old woman no one really knows,
and most just try to ignore.

but that old woman ran with the wind,
made love with intimate strangers.
smoked dope and marched in protest,
spent several nights in jail.
wrote poetry and read Jung,
lived in communes and on the road.
found god when she found herself,
and raised three children well.
made pottery and raised her own food,
and fed anyone that was hungry.
back in the day she brought the dawn,
and now her name is sunset!