The Picture
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Its getting to that time of year again..Halloween. Time for a little fun.
The picture
She bends over the lace making table
Fingers swollen knuckles hard and round
Silent conversation hands to cotton, cotton to hand
Weaving and wefting
Curling and carping
Each lazy loose strand.
Arched back and shoulders
Eyes squinting to see
The old lady with the crochet shawl
Turns as if to see.
A chill screams over my body
I watch that which cannot be
An aged long dead woman
Is looking straight at me
With withered face and pigeon eyes
I feel her go straight through my frame
The picture from the curio shop
The woman with no name.
The senses screech the body tight
I stiffen like a corpse in my fright
And still she stares, then creeps a smile
From that worn and wrinkled face
As if by magic she emits a glow, a grace
Then turns to her table and all is still
I will give her to my mother in law
Tomorrow I certainly will!
Copyright © Janine Lever | Year Posted 2023
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