she walked hunched
with two whittled sticks
adorned with orange flaggers tape
waving at the top,
a crocheted brimmed hat
with a ribbon of flowers
hung delicately around her head,
the pinnacle of Jenny Joseph’s “Warning”
shades of purple too short in some areas
and too large in others,
into the café on her morning stroll
sitting her sticks against the wall,
talking to them before she goes
to purchase her coffee,
addressing others with mannerisms long forgotten,
in a tone stereotypical
of a well-aged kindred woman,
time and grace her company,
taking in all that passes
along the street and sidewalk outside
through windows in old fashion style,
she lingers greeting the day,
conversing with any and all,
content within her own
as she slowly indulges in fresh coffee.