The Statue

A hint of a smile on the corners of her once luscious, but now faded, lips, showed she recognized you, she’d seen you so many times before

She had sandy hair,
with a crinkled ribbon, tying a bow
behind her delicate face.

Her eyes open wide,
you never used to see her,
close them.

Her arms held aloft,
she’s wave with a graceful arc.

A hint of a smile on the
corners of her once luscious, but
now faded, lips, showed she
recognized you, she’d seen you
so many times before.

Her legs stepped forward
gracefully in the shoes she always
seemed to wear,
she hadn’t a care, for…
although we can see her,
she isn’t…, really…,
there…, for… she’s a…
statue.

Copyright: Anthony Leonard Ostheimer (ALO), 9 September 1972, Kyparissia, Greece