the shadows of her life

I sit with the old woman,
drinking tea
in the shadow of her yard,
the willow tree,
the long fence, the clothes
line
full of white sheets.
I have no regrets, she says,
looking off
to a place I've never been.
no regrets.
mistakes, yes. but necessary
to get to where I am.
she turns to look me in
the eyes. have no fear about
love, or life, or death,
she says, touching her plate,
a piece of bread.
all in good time.
be good, do your best.