She’s got age
up her sleeve,
wrinkles and loose hanging skin
stuffed into her peacoat pocket–
folded next to well-worn hankies.
Drinking coffee from her mug before
the interview. Staring at the peonies, how faded
their pink has become. From the sun
coming in through the curtain she doesn't close.
In a knee-length pencil skirt with hose
collecting at her ankles. No runs,
not yet. Careful to ease around the couch,
avoid coffee table corners that would
easily snag and quash this one last
desperate shot at work.
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