chiseled form, from Barre gray granite,
skin sandblasted smooth perfect,
her arresting sideways glance,
seeing me, seeing me not,
this undirected glazed gaze directed
at my now and for a momentarily, an ever, a mixed
conflagration conflating, 
the emotional paradigm worth an inestimable fortuna,
and the fleeting of a passing stranger,

a sculptor keeps and captures, an everlasting grace, 
this face, this face, a smile rising above
the tragedies of human living’s burdens

and walk past her, on my way to work,
and bid
her grace,
for each of our own solitudes


3/21/26