Portrait
Communities embrace,
or they reject, but never
bar what one can teach.
No one sits alone-
there is a shadow skulking,
yet he is a black
beast of a dream. She
sits in front of the artist:
her eyes, her life-
another country.
A surgeon who was her Pa
knew her pain once, soothed.
She told, gesturing
rapidly, of remedies
used by her surgeon
father. Spinning skies
around our silhouettes
in the green house porch
have starlight tales
revealing years we evolved-
for the light has shined
on us since before.
Portraits capture the visions
of history- yet
everyone else,
faces not framed. We don't know
several billion.
Twilight hugs shadowed
walls encircling my eyes-
windows my portrait.
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