Alan L. Winters
She stood there in the half-light of dawn
Gazing silently at the wildflowers
Just beyond the kitchen door,
Clutching a mug of coffee closely,
Warming hands, as well as breasts.
Her long hair flowed loosely
‘Round her shoulders like a scarf.
And I saw her face reflected
In the window glass.
She was smiling. A ‘Mona Lisa’ smile
Sharing her thoughts with herself alone.
Quietly she began to hum.
I’d heard the tune before.
Her mother taught it to her
When she was very young.
She didn’t even know its name
But hummed it just the same.
©Copyright late 2005 by Alan L. Winters