A Veiled Black Lace Hat

Clare's hands were clasped upon her lap, upon her crown, a veiled black lace hat. A shattered calm she wore; that took on strength self-steadied after several drinks If one dared look closer, to penetrate - then one would see through the black veil's lace, and reveal a woman, blank of face, that long ago had left this place. Clasped hands on which shine a diamond ring lustre lost, as do those things that shine, then dull. A lover's token which she pushed and pulled. Parades of people floated past condolences said and sent as people slowly came and went. Clare remained with hands still clasped upon her lap diamond dully staring back. All had gone, as had he, as Clare fell to her knees face pale and pasty white searching for that brilliant light that never came. Clare stumbled out into the night guided by vodka and lace veiled sight alone again; Clare cried insane until a large sum of money came as did twice before when on her finger shone a diamond ring - lustre lost - as do those things that shine, then dull that push, then pull In her closet, near the back waits a favorite veiled black lace hat