On Voting Day

Dressed to the nines, she was,
quite fashionably layered
in colours bright as sunshine.
Jewel-bedecked, hair nicely
styled and immaculately coloured,
study in her overweight appearance,
lipsticked mouth insisting her
determination to cast her vote
in this provincial election's
advance poll, because she will
be absent, unfortunately, on
election day. A funeral, her
brother-in-law died last night,
she sighed heavily. Taking strangers
into her confidence, she murmured
how difficult it was for her to
stand, waiting in line, and we
exhorted her to rest herself,
sliding a chair toward her, and
kept her place in line. I inclined
my head the better to hear her
lamenting confessional, the last 
of her generational line, for her
brother and her sisters had also
gone lately and she thought that
she too, would. But she struggles on
toward her 95th year, her deeply
rutted face creased in a smile,
inclined to vote yet in many an
election, her duty to life clear 
enough, to throw those bastards out.