GRACE (c. 1925)

her photo caught my eye
an old black and white 
that served to mystify
her simplicity.

and all around the wall
amongst strange faces
the elders will recall
hers was familiar.

a youthful air, demure
midst her meager class
less than twelve be sure
small town graduates

and like phrases that rhyme 
or those that strain to
her smile tried touching mine
across many years

a sudden thought occurred
at once hopeful dark
as though a ghost had stirred 
that she may still live

alone and dressed in lace
a small frail lady 
friendly and soft of face
someplace here in town 

perhaps the small white cape 
on outer main street 
clapboards weathered scraped
greying through the seasons

or the dark shuttered place 
by the verrill farm
that lilacs have embraced 
with purple perfume

and we could meet for tea
to talk of those times
before she knew of me
and my autumn heart