these old ladies

These Old Ladies

These old ladies
I clean
windows for,
one’s 105 &
frail as
cotton candy
but still
writes her
own checks &
flirts outrageously.

 

The rest are
in their 90s
& the
thing they
have in
common seems
to be
what’s in &
what’s not in
their homes.

 

There are
no computers
cell phones &
seldom a
TV.

 

There are
manual typewriters
hand-cranked
Victrolas
knickknacks &
doilies &
rocking chairs
with sepia
glassed-in
photos on
the wall
behind them of
stern patriarchs
& matriarchs
with blazing
eyes &
steel backbones.

 

The house
we did today
when I
snapped up the
yellowed shade
behind the
brass-framed bed
a buck
& a
doe were
looking
in at me,
not a
foot from
the window.

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