Fortitude

What’s left
after the washing is put away
and the dishes are done?

What’s left
after they all leave
without waving goodbye?

I close myself in the small room
with my past
struggles and accomplishments
and reach for . . .


What’s left
after anger and desolation?

What’s left
is an old woman reaching out
to find
what’s left
when she becomes invisible,
unheralded,
alone and

waiting to find out
who 
she will now 
become.