In Her Room

I wish ceilings were painted grass green,

and that spiders were tiny and hot pink.

But mostly,

I wish that time was purple.

In her room, clear walls are tinted like glass.

This room is petite, obsolete.

The placement of the window bothers me,

it reflects nature as cold.

The antique jewelry box atop the maple dresser holds

a pair of pearl earrings, a beaded necklace, and a white gold class ring.

The beaded necklace is turquoise and silver.

To glance out the window, is to wonder why

the distance between light and myself is measurable.

Beyond these walls,

there are angels that smile at the fragile

but time is always blue.

-r.i.p.  Aunt Ilene

© LaRonda Moore


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