she
meticulously combs
her hair
for the lover
who never
came back

she
watches herself
crying into
the mirror
for the want
of a reply

she
unfolds the
picture of the boy
in her summer
both smiling
in blossom

she
warms herself
by the fire
in the autumn
of her solitary
life

she
sheds a smile
for the memory
of the fire
in his eyes
quite sublime

she
watches herself
crying into
the mirror
for the want
of a reply