Poetry for the older woman

Poetry for the older woman,
Must be written clandestinely,
Effortlessly.
In between fleeting moments of Her coming close and going away,
the other woman.
Poetry for the older woman must be written in voids,
Because continuum is meant for somebody else,
the other woman.

Poetry for the older woman,
Must be written looking at her,
Not from up close,
not very far.
A gaze of her leaning at the window sill of the house across the street,
looking out into the world and conjuring reality as she dreams it, would do.

Poetry for the older woman,
must be about small little things really.
Like her ruffled undone hair,
that settle about her the way they want to
as she removes her hair clip after a weary day at work.

Like the kohl around her eyes,
which is now so accustomed to its haven,
that it seems she has been putting it on for an eternity already.

Like the solitary bangle on her wrist,
metallic grey, encrusted with humble stones.

Like the skin of her hands,
not smooth, not taut,
- having caressed some rough edges already.

Beautiful.

Poetry for the older woman,
must be written,
when poetry comes to you,
instead of the other way round.