The oldest person I know
takes her tea by the window.
She sits and remembers.
Outside the window, birds gather at the feeder.
She hums a tune and watches
beat the time
Sipping her tea
She studies the lines on the back of her hands as if they were
a roadmap to the past.
Her cell phone buzzes on the table beside her
She answers, greeting her granddaughters’s plans with affection.
Looking to the future, not worried about where she’s been.