The foolish and the unafraid, equally, need perspective

Jasmine perfume
an antique clock
collectible spoons
and pictures-
albums full of pictures.

Pictures of her great-grandchildren.
Pictures of her sons
in crisp Air Force uniforms.
Pictures of her mother.

Her father died in an explosion at the plant-
this was back before the War-
she was 15.
She said that her mother had it the hardest.

All this, in such stark contrast

to these chirping birds
and this sunshine,
and the giggling gaggle of college girls in the corner.
Chirping, smoking,
and cursing the things that "suck".

I want to be clear-
there is no judgment here.

It's just so easy to see, now, on this patio,
how things move- and in what little change.
No start-  (We can't remember how we start.)
but maybe,
someday,
an end.

Just like her,
looking at her picture albums,
counting her pills,
and talking on the phone, twice a day,
to her daughter.

Just like them,
those girls,
laughing out smoke,
and talking about what "trips them out."