Woman in a Dark Dress
She sat quite like the others, having tea.
She seemed, I noted, to hold her cup
somewhat differently from the others.
She smiled once. It almost hurt to see.
When everyone stood at the end and moved about,
chatting and laughing, and as it happened,
drifting through the rooms of the house,
I watched her. She followed after,
holding back a little, as if she feared
to draw attention to herself.
On her eyes, bright with happiness,
light shone as on the surface of a pond.
She moved at her own pace and took her time
as though there were something yet to be learned;
some threshold, which once she crossed over,
she would no longer feel her way, but fly.