Portrait of a Lady


iceberg met Titanic
the day she was born
brightly-colored wings of steel
adorn no fragile butterfly
raised in the deep South
the essence of a lady
unfaded by years
of summer sun
eyes brown and warm
as flowing bayou water
caressing the banks
moving inexorably on
delicate hands
blue-veined on white
gentle fingers
flit to adjust silver widow’s peak
with Dad in perfect synch
skirt billowing
whirling wings
velvet covered voice
with inflexible core
quick to comfort
quicker still to laugh
tragic metamorphosis
butterfly into cocoon
Dozing off
mouth agape
unladylike snore
puzzling chores
frying eggs
toasting bread
brushing hair
no longer automatic
rambling speech
vague protestations
wasting body
drooping posture
shuffling gait
vacant stare
agonizing denouement
unspinning the life
unraveling the tapestry
so richly colored
cruel fate
to steal the mind
and leave the soul

*** END ***

(c) 9/3/99 Pat Hornsby Crochet

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