She appeared a wizened figure, creased and grey
the first time I saw her but other than that
she was so old and nondescript I remember
nothing about her. The young take little notice
of the very old and I suspect this very old woman
took no notice of me, just a little friend her
grandson brought along on a visit. I was a child
and so was he, just in our early teens and it was
his grandfather that impressed with his long white
spade-shaped beard and gentle knowing smile.
I remember a horse in a shed in the back. I
remember a sprawling old chestnut tree in the
garden. I remember when the house was sold
and they entered an old-age home. They both
looked ancient and I was still a child. Now
on my left hand her wedding ring encircles
my ring finger and I am older than when I first
saw this woman whom time has long since taken.
As I observe the ring I wonder what she might have
thought of this most intimate symbol of her life
adorning the wrinkled hand of a girl unnoticed.
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