I am an old lady who dances

through the rubble of her life,

who dances through memories,

through lives that are no more,

scattering bones and

lost dreams,

picking up bits and pieces and

stuffing them into inappropriate places,

nooks and crannies that

need embellishment,

a little sparkle here and there.

I am so old that memories clutter

my days and I stumble through

reality holding on to my dear

friends for stability.

by Cher Bibler