The Old Woman Four Rows Ahead

by Jenna Buschmann


We are the daughters of the Amazon

The sisters of Aphrodite and Athena

Warrior’s blood rushes through our veins

The breath of goddesses in our lungs

Our eyelashes hold constellations

Our bones contain galaxies

We are born of fire and sea

We are derived from ancient magic.


Yet I can see from here

How our skin crumbles to dust

An old woman rocking in her pew

Her lips moving back and forth

Shaky and silent with hollow eyes

She, the ancestor of the earth

Whittled away to scraps and slivers

A ghost wrapped in a milky white

Liver-spotted quivering sheet.


We are women full of stardust

We are females forged from iron

But time turns a blind eye to greatness

The clock’s cold hands touch all

Reducing titans to tinder and

Condensing gods to glue.