Forgotten Women

Apple shopping today I spied the shadow of a women I once knew, sitting on a Siamese water pipe. Head down, yellow cap sat snug hiding her eyes. Gray coarse hair shot from it, brushing stooped shoulders. She had aged and morphed into an old man sporting hip hop garb. Sitting there sun drenched in a shrouded sadness. Lost was the smile that defined her being. Looping back I thought I’d say hello, knowing she’d remember me. The pipe resumed its purpose, static. She had vanished, pouf, appearing and disappearing just like the entourage who had left her behind.

Image by: Cec LePage