and she waters the plants
like she always does.
She touches their leaves
with wrinkled hands of brown
browned by the sun and summers
she had lost count long ago.
Her hair with silver streaks
proudly worn with no adornment
adorning a soul of strength
born out of weathered fate.
In quiet contentment I watch
my gardener friend as she plants
planting more than blooms to share
she infuses my life with new color.

yldara 0412060127