From the entry hall I quietly observe
The plump old woman
Wrapped in a shawl and sitting in a rocking chair 
A shaft of sunlight lances through the window
Her cat is curled on the footstool beside her

The ornately trimmed grandfather clock
On the carpeted landing
Tells me the precise time
I wonder if she sits here everyday

I assume she does

Perhaps I will come back again
To and take in this scene
Hung on the gallery wall
To satisfy the gawker in us all