She stood there gazing wistfully
at the holiday tree in the lobby of The Plaza,
wearing a dress, tailor fit thirty years before
at Bergdorfs or Saks, now hanging loosely
from shoulders stooped by too many years,
and too many worries.
She stood remembering times long past,
meeting friends for tea, or her husband for a drink
before heading to the theater.
She stood, as the doorman
eyed her with pity, and the man
behind the desk shot a look of disdain.
She stood a long while, taking refuge
from the bitter wind howling down Fifth Avenue,
her eyes a bit glazed, hint of a tear on one cheek,
her thoughts many years away.
A chill passed through me, momentarily
picturing my future self, cast by fate,
as the lonely old lady standing in the lobby,
gazing at The Plaza’s tree.
© 2016 DM Shepherd