All That Remains
All that remains…
Silence rests on dust and gloom,
Upon her head rests the old heirloom…
As I grasp the hat in shaking hands,
I gaze upon the picture,
Framed upon the stand…
Her smile as bright as,
The gleam in her eyes…
Her head tilted back,
Looking from under where the large brim lies…
The photo is cracked,
It is wrinkled with age…
I remember that chapter in our life…
It was written on,
The very first page…
Her T-shirt thin,
Leaving breast to bear…
Her jeans were faded;
Ripped here and there…
She loved nothing more,
Than the common place;
Never could do with ruffles and lace…
But the hat was sacred,
Somehow it fit right in…
It served to shadow her features;
To hide her mischievous grins…
Now those times are gone;
My lady at rest…
All that remains are:
A picture,
Some jeans,
A shirt,
And
The Hat in this chest…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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