Suddenly bitter as a reflection of her youth
Glides past and takes a seat across the aisle
The crone, alone with her withered hope, and regret
Casts dark glance at rays of light
Flaxen curls resembling tiny ethereal halos
That seem to laugh and dance, mocking the dark
Mocking the fluorescent glow of the auditorium
By shamelessly parading as bits of midday sunshine
From the shadows strikes a forked tongue
Wishing to reclaim some lost piece of past
In desperation, frustration at the mirrors in her eyes
That narrow but refuse to close, tear but refuse to blur
As her fervent whispered lashing fades unseen
Retreating, widening the gap across the aisle
The crone shrinks back into the safety of darkness
Where the fluorescent spotlight cannot go
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