Tuesday, November 20, 2007


Signs of grey wanter by the brook of her first place. Silence of waterfalls flow about her face. And the power in black always left her in awe, among other rarities of the world that she saw. But her bangs hid the mark of a blue crescent moon. The memory - her memory would die with it soon. For she recalled only lightly as she stood near the stream, the life she once led - it felt now like a dream.

She gazed downward to catch her reflection, slowly retreating to introspection. Skin hung loose on her brown spotted fingers. Though her waves were grey, some black streaks lingered. And her body bent over like a tired vine; partly by age, mostly from mind. The red velvet dress with black buttons and lace had slowly been worked down into disgrace.

She put her hand back and sat on a stone, looked back and forth to make sure she was alone. And slowly she pulled a chain from her pocket, found the round charm, and pried open the locket. The picture inside from years ago - oh the memories it brought of that life she used to know. That one day life turned - and though many lives have such a day, hers seemed to her unique in so many ways....

No comments: