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.