Her roots travel miles long
buried deep below her soles
wondrous unforgettable moments
next to grueling times of hell
paths of fading footprints tell
lessons are learned even at ninety.
Years drawn in lines upon her face
sagging breasts and slow steps
carry endless hidden strengths
rising from a passionate spirit
flashes of piercing youth
mingling with eyes of the wise.
“The wise wear purple,” she says laughing
sipping on her hardened water
swinging in her purple hat
telling joyful tales of years past
wearing a smile of freedom.