Burnished

She glanced over to
Me like an afterthought
Aghast to the realization that
Her self-image carried the
Callow’s weight of mauve
Effortlessly falling into the
Sanctity of remnant time …
And as her gaze returned to
The mirror, a memory of her
Childhood began to sing of
Summer yellow skies and long walks
With her father, long since passed –
Where the aire of regret came
To rest as the fire of burden
Burnished bright in her eyes.

 

© K. James Ribble

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