A Disposition – poem

(On surprising a neighbor lady at play.)

Do they matter anymore the inclinations of age?

If she stoops with a groan and grit at the knees

predisposed to care, bowed in sorrow, but

what daring here in bending plucks a dandelion

ratchets upright to puff that tuft onto

the breeze the air about her snow-globed

resolved in a weathered smile if you squint

so much like that one in the faded Polaroid?

#poem