Wise, Loving Woman

She sits there smiling, staring at you
I bet she remembers when you were one or two
April fourteen, nineteen sixteen
Yes, so many years gone by she as seen
Wrinkled eyes, wet as a blanket in a dryer
Her face full of wisdom, no urge to retire
Born in the smallest Central American land
Poor, but worked hard behind a tortilla stand
She sits there squinting her eyes
Looking hard trying to recognize
Features of the faces she cares for
To tell stories of childhood that she adore
Indian features with shiny gray hair surround her face
Old and wrinkly yet still filled with grace
Only sweetness is left that youth once filled
Looking at her family, life for her has been fulfilled
Love to the wise and loving woman, from the heart
Wishing life would never have to pull us apart
Life and death is accepted and understood
When a loving woman has lived since your childhood

By Karen Y. Aguilar