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Posted on June 21, 2021 by Christine Crosby in aging, Karen Barash, poetry, Woman

The Old Woman And Me

The Old Woman And Me



Side by side, we walk the slow solicitous stroll of the very old. She wears sensible shoes; vanity no longer pinches her soul.

Lines and wrinkles that stealthily invaded her face

Now, at eighty-five, are entrenched deeply in place.

Rheumy eyes no longer see friends who have fallen one by one.

Thin cotton candy hair like a wispy white chrysanthemum.

Invisible in plain dress, arms thin bony wings,

She stares into store windows, the lust gone for things.

A street musician plays a familiar strain. How does he know that old refrain?

Lithe in a yellow tulle gown, creamy smooth skin,

Soft scarlet lips, gold slippers, sparkling hairpin.

A radiant and lovely young woman at the dance,

Confident and regal like Mary Queen of France.

She dances and twirls, a night filled with fun,

Certain that youth is hers for many years to come.

The music stops.

She leans on her cane, Looks into the glass. How can it be?

The old woman in the window is me.


I have worked in several professions including as an English teacher.  I am now retired and live in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida with my husband.  During my retirement, I audited creative writing classes at the local college and wrote several short stories and poems, “The Old Woman and Me” being one of them.  That was ten years ago when I was seventy years old and already thinking about the aging process.


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Christine Crosby

About the author

Christine is the co-founder and editorial director for GRAND Magazine. She is the grandmother of five and great-grandmom (aka Grandmere) to one. She makes her home in St. Petersburg, Florida.

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