A Veiled Black Lace Hat

Written by: regina branham

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