to see this unexpected,
ladies in the dark
repeating.

the gold cape of mold,
where the stitches
held fabric. i had
to see it, all round.

in mold it was a replica,
no vision, no air. so

we took a photograph.

she said she has to go
out each day, as his ashes

are

upstairs.

i am not blonde, yet
am known in the village,
as the title.

sbm