It's Still Life

An Old Woman Full of Light

Her man wanted a room
without light. A cube of
dimness, and colours dark as bark.

He’d whisper in her ear
“Are you asleep?” and
she’d fall into a deepened still.

She told me she’d not seen a dawn,
a rising sun, a glisking light
never entered that room

that held his plague,
prophecy, and sleepless presence.

The day after his funeral,
she painted the bedroom
Daylight Yellow,

            and bought a new bed.

written for Writers Digest PA 2: Second Chance, Glo/NaPoWriMo Day 2, use a word featured in  Haggard Hawks Twitter feed. Glisk v. glance, brief glimpse of warm sunshine. ©Misky 2022 Image Better Days Ahead by Billie Rae Busby Shared with #amwriting #glopowrimo #napowrimo on Twitter