I always see her; mind’s eye myopia shows an eternal smile never fouled by frown or dismay. She dances, lightly, through dreamscapes decades in their fermentation. Her long hair twirls behind her, cascading brown across shapely shoulders, wind-blown bangs framing youthful, pristine face. Memory does not embellish. Pictures captured of late show little change in her uncorrupted eyes, smile; flawless even in candid shots.  She stands next to old friends, bringing into sharp relief how time has steered clear; Dorian Gray, without tribulation.  Equally telling – the lack of envy from peers.  Never did she engender jealousy; only longing, in young men who could not muster gumption to ask her. Their fear ironically unwarranted. Some pictures posted show her with her husband, a decent man who I am certain is unworthy, contrary to their years together.

Asked her, she said no

later writing her regret,

I still only sigh

 

– Mark L.Lucker

© 2016