Like Mrs. Parker

She never smiles anymore,
She seems more wrinkled
than she needs to be,
she smokes,
in pictures from a few years ago,
she’s happy,
there’s hope in her eyes,
where now reside crows feet,

she’s laughing in the newsletter,
she’d won some award,
but now when she passes me
in the hall,
those better days, gone,
she bitterly jokes,
she burns and gives off smoke,
and always reeks of ashes

c. 2001, 2008 Evan Gilling

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