Sitting across me
on the table
arms wreathed
perched on lap
shoulders resting
after battling
years.
Groans the chair
on her behalf
heavily fragile
with crow paws
by the eyes
pecking age
weighing down.
Wild winds rage
beyond reach
we sight each other
in each other’s
silver hair, dotted cheeks
failing soul
cheeky smile.
Wheezing for air
in open space
as cling-packed
shrooms, dried
awaiting pop
that livens one
snuffs, other.
The Chaos Within 