One brief moment
Was all I could give.
Time after time
I would pass
Never stopping
She would shout:
“Hello there”
Anna’s silken white hair
Lay curled on her shoulder
Her shared room
With only two possessions
A stark bookcase
An album and Kleenex on it
Frail and weak
The once famous dancer
Clutched rolled Kleenex
Held to her lips
While she chewed it
I introduced myself
Picking up her album
She whispered;
“Mother who?”
