The Invisible Woman

The rock is wild,
and the sky is high.
The child is lost in days gone by.

My skin soft sky,
and my heart is glass.
All mirrors say that youth has passed.

Let tearful cumulus bow and pray.
Let cats curl up for the end of day.
Let the perfect garden weep and say
the child is gone, is gone away.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.