Outlined by the window
She sits with face of Gothic cast
In two dimensional form
(A water-wash of pastel tint
Covering gesso's hardened white).
But knowing time, as time will do,
Can even oil and cloth wear out,
She, within her parlor room,
Puts chiseled lip to china cup
To drink her portion that she brews
Fresh each lonely afternoon.
And then she slowly blends again
Into the prison of her frame
A still life of the soul.
Edwin F. Kagin
Last updated: 9 January 2005