Forgive her in her coldest hour: Fragile hands shielding
Light diced by shutters, streaming through
Afternoon dust. An old parchment on the table
Recalls something of glory, as the wall frames
Fall by rust. Sleepy vase rose wilts, crackling petals
At the base, each a crimson memory. She’s surrounded
Like some fugitive, cornered like prey, shattered
In her cataclysm of despair. How such and sweet
The delicacy of time. Once upon. Mantle pictures
Recollect dear children laughing carefree, not
Heard from since. Slow and lower than a worm
Writhing through springtime dew, she pours
Hot tea on cold white milk as her eyes close
To rushing vapors.
Kelly Vinal
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/forgotten/
