Periwinkle slippers
Comfort weathered feet.
She sits silently
Looking through the frosted window.
Red and yellow dot the trees,
Still softly dancing in the autumn winds.
With pale, translucent hands
Wrinkled from past sunny days.
Her hair, white as winters’ first snow.
Still she sits.
Alone she waits
For her absolution.
Only now in her final years does she find
The peace she’s looked for
For so long.
No one comes to visit;
She expects no one.
Years holed up,
Years of pushing away,
Have ultimately ended in a solitary existence.
Breathing only because life goes on;
Life pulls her through the years.
Blanket tassels intertwined
Within the alabaster fingertips.
A single tear runs silently
Down along her porcelain face.
Only now at the end does she know,
Her purpose in life.
Only now,
It’s too late.  

copyright 2007 jade clark
all rights reserved.