I just thought I might share one of the family portrait poems I've done. Some of you may have seen this before, but some of you may not. Have a great weekend everyone.
She looked faded,
like a comfortable old pair of jeans.
There was no vigor
in her halting marionette-like walk,
and her bosom hung emptily
on a rounded belly.
The right hand,
poised for its habitual cigarette,
shook from the awkward absence.
A fluff of whitened auburn
framed her sagging face
expanded flecks of rust.
Her weary eyes hid
in the folds of her face.