Her picture sits upon my dresser,
Void of vibrance anywhere,
Black and white and colors lesser;
The grim and grey that's called despair.
Once it shone with shocking hues;
Chestnut hair streaked with gold
Eyes a thousand shades of blue!
A bright, white smile that was so bold.
Time has faded that old photo,
And it plays tricks on my memory.
When did I take it? Where did we go?!
Why did she stand so close to me?
It matters not now, for she is gone,
And like her bones, her photo fades.
And I am left here alone-
To wander through my life's charades.
A gentle brushing with my hand,
And her image once again appears,
Once more vibrant, at my eye's command-
Or perhaps, clarified - through my tears.
I often think of that old friend,
And each time I do, I smile-
For even though her life's at an end,
She was mine... for a while.
Regards,
Kris
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