Dear Jane,

How I wish you were here
to have an afternoon tea,
make sly commentary
on the women surrounding us,
their transparent wiles
and winning ways:
such a penetrating gaze
you leveled at our small world.
None were safe from your
pithy review.

Minutiae always held meaning
for you, the smallest detail
painted pictures of a world
since faded, lessened
by your absence.

The mortification of foolishness,
passion and practicality,
the misjudgments of hastiness,
the complexity of appearances,
and the persuasiveness of forgiveness,
in these you were very well versed.

You were taken too soon,
dearest of friends,
but your legacy for me
only becomes richer.

Fare thee well.