Old Woman

White flows from her hair
like leaves from a branch.
A flower of youth she was
until the waves of aging came
and went.

They came and went,
like the wind, becoming old
and frail as a stick.
She is not a stick you see
for her wrinkles are
thunderbolts engraved
by the daughters of Thor

Golden rings of beauty once
adorned her,
slowly disintegrating
until they become
rings of vine and time.

Her roots
travel far and wide
as she remains standing tall
forever etched into stone walls

She is the ancient tree
that remains for centuries
with white leaves and tree
rings.