spinster
She holds her pain like a proud scar
memories, though frayed, still warm with a kiss,
between the wars there was a silence
a reverberation from its walls, from its sepia hue.
A bliss from a young mind and a faith
that not much could mar this site,
between the wars there sang
the same sun and stars her eyes see tonight.
Effortlessly cantankerous
she would bark and demand and shout,
an aged spinster living in a box of images
inside her mind.
(2014)
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