Sunday Whirl
Mantala
Along the wall
In shadowed alcove
Past and present meet
Memories flood in
Maps are drawn
Dreams dwindle
Images spin
Invisible becomes visible
Thoughts ricochet
Slowly coming into focus
No longer the curvaceous
Girl you were
An old woman now
With narrow shoulders
Dressed in blue velvet
You hum to yourself
As you draw the lace across your face
The warped fabric of your life
Still strong on the loom
Note: I saw a woman in Santa Fe, faded beauty. She had only one eye, and had smudged mascara on the closed eyelid…dressed in blue velvet. She found her way through the crowd to the old spanish plaza, and sat on the first empty park bench and opened her lunch. Her image went deep into my soul, and I have been trying to find the way to write about her. She was like an old moth, drawn to the light and life of the plaza.
Annell Livingston
annellannell 