**Note** This is something that I wrote as an homage as to how the elderly are sometimes forgotten and disregarded. It is not about me, personally, although one day I aspire to become old and gray. Thanks for reading.

As I toil in my garden, I look for a friendly smile from passersby, hoping that they’ll take a moment from each other’s glance to notice an old lady waving hello,

But their lively conversation is too compelling for them to take a moment to acknowledge a foolish woman who holds on to the hope that one day they will.

The sun goes down and shadows play along the darkening city streets,

Illuminating shapes of those whose boisterous laughter is heard through the canopies of the weeping willows.

I sit alone on my front porch recalling the times when my legs moved just as deftly and I close my eyes imagining my younger self running in time right alongside the others.

My house used to be one of unspeakable joy, but one of the rewards of old age is losing those most precious to you.

It is late and I’m afraid so I walk back inside to prepare my supper but I will set a place for two in the hopes that someone will come by to break bread and share stories with me.

My body is racked with pain as I prepare for bed; it’s one of life’s cruelties for the body to deteriorate leaving your mind ever so aware of how youth once felt.

I will close my eyes and dream of tomorrow when I will once again see my friends: the sun, my garden and the lovely rocking chair that cradles me as I watch my neighbors go by.

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