To Waken an Old Lady

Old age is

a great

deposit

of heavy

worn things

like a broken

mirror, like

the family pictures

taped to a

glass door,

stumbling through

the thin

clouded air

to greet

the color

of closed

flowers; and I

that hurry

like a leaf.

So breathe

the wind

that comes

through my hands

changing

its death-outing

in the night

and the day.

• William Carlos Williams