It's Still Life

A Second Reading

When I am gone
and critics give
my life a second reading,
will they know the right
questions, so they find
the kindest answers.

Which parts of me
will stay behind, and
which parts will sweep
along with the wind,
with the shadows.

Am I verb, or adjective.
A warm glow or
an indigo pool.
Was I the soap that
washed away your hope.

The gravity of questions;
so be kind, speak of me
in abstract statements,
beige flattened tones.
I once love that.

for dVerse. This took on a line that’s not parallel to the prompt. C’est la vie. Image is from Unsplash.