The Old Lady… Poem by John F. Bisner Ureña.

Sitting and pensive
with his wrinkled hand
on her face was
disturbed the old lady...

Sneaky a black bow holds
the threads of her silver hair,
her gaze is fixed on the hazards of life
where she is sheltered by an old-fashioned
dark blue vest that covers the wrinkles that
run through her skin...

Nobody…,
but nobody cared for her,
she fragile she was alone with the experience of
the years that came and disappeared leaving her still,
her ineffable bliss of those essential beings as candid
and pure is the life that lies and flows deep within
her soul and spirit...

Your friend forever,
John Bisner Ureña.
Writer-Poet and builder of dreams.
'Believe in yourself, do not limit yourself,
or condition yourself.'
'Together building dreams of life.'
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