Respite Across the room her face deep in shadow and still, where I stand, dark rings are clear; her eyes are hooded, swollen - I don’t know if anything I say can dry a tear Dark circles still remain beneath her eyes my reassuring words are met with doubt sorrow buried deep in her disguise, I cannot recognize - I’m left without a clue, her words are mute, and not forthcoming until a blaze of yellow strikes the air daffodils I hold are simply stunning, I pass them on, they accent sunlit hair and when her timid smile breaks free at last I sense a short-lived respite from her past Julie A. Dickson
