Farewell

Ionic were her always her favorite kind of columns.

Marble girls in swirled white smocks danced
In and out of her memory, seeming to
Speak with fingers beckoning,
Singing of love and

Youthful pleasures. There was somehow always
One sad-eyed girl sitting alone
Under the harshly chisled moonlight

Sighing after a long-lost lover
Or a once-close friend, now distant or dead.

Most of the other girls paid her no heed;
Unnoticed, she lingered alone. Her presence
Counted for nothing, made no difference,
Had little impact on the world; much like the rest of us.



Words by WildGoose
Read 639 times
Written on 2008-06-07 at 20:49

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Rob Graber
There is something nobler about the sad girl remembering than the happy girls dancing--even if none of them (or us) makes much dfference in the long run... Well done!

PS: Doesn't the first line contain a glitch?
2008-06-08