I passed an
old woman
who walked along
the road.
Back bent
and shoulders stooped,
steps straight
and head bowed.
I wondered where
she went.
No sidewalk
and no ride,
she walked doggedly
on,
cars travelled
by her side.
Then I saw the
outline,
a young
woman, steps light,
followed by
a child,
the core, full
of life.
Ghosts of
her past glowing,
Russian
dolls each within,
Defining the
woman
she has
always been.
©2018 Maria Amodei
