Eyes blue, well almost,
they are grey,
and shine sparkles into memories,
deep and long.
Her brow reaches dark lines
that set rivulets around her sallow frown.
Buried deep grooves tunnel to her thin lips,
weathered red, like rust.
Pure white linen offers
soft folds that crimple
a rhythm of gentle
feeling for her face.
And the rounded bags capture her gaze;
faraway, looking into
heaven’s melancholy
with the sorrows of dark earth.
Cupping elegant fingers
in an offering to an Invisible Strength
her face reveals years
of a long love affair
and a soul
that knew
the bitter sweet sorrows
and joys of a life laid down.