her time
poetry by anja leigh
Her house is empty now.
Only the tailless tabby, Joy,
prowls the staircase.
She walks to the corner store,
buys one red apple, then exchanges it for green.
A gilded mirror frame
catches her eye in the window
at the antique store
the owner flirts with her.
She is content not to flirt back
but to carry her apple home
sit in the garden of her making
eat the fruit one bite
at a time reading
as the afternoon breeze
brushes her thinning hair.
Perhaps she will doze
carrying her memories with her
like the trail of Shasta daisies
carefully cultivated
next to the stone walkway
wandering down to the ocean
that resounds into her dream.
She will remember nothing harmful.
She will seek no sorrow,
a houseguest
against her will.
The wind will scatter her blossoms
where all possibilities exist
along the edge of grass-covered railroad tracks,
unused at the outskirts of town, fading.
about the author
Anja Leigh recently received her MA in Creative Writing at the age of 62. Her poems tell stories of women exploring their sexuality, gaining independence, overcoming oppression, experiencing loss and sorrow, and accepting both the chaos and adventure of contemporary life. As a contemporary senior citizen, her words testify to a quality of truth that is at once candid and universal. She has been published in The Northridge Review, CSPS Poetry Letter & Literary Review (contest winner), California Quarterly, Diner, WordWrights, Luhith, Painted Moon Review, ROAR, BorderSenses, Earth's Daughters, Poets Against the War, Women's Voices, and Quoin, and she has read her poetry at various locations throughout the United States.
