By Tami Karabin
Each time I see her hair of fire
I stop, compelled to admire
my friend’s neo-classical print
broadly framed with golden glint.
The subject, bathed in blue
has captivated me and you.
Her fair skin awash in pink
as her eyelids slowly sink,
she inhales the scent of a rose
while secreting a moment’s pose.
She breathes in the aroma of before,
stealing back time she will always adore.
Its beauty is so bittersweet
and she herself a goddess to entreat.
While she longs for the past
and hopes the aroma will last
she is strength to behold
whatever will unfold.
My captivation grows.
“The Soul of the Rose,”
my friend explains,
“I think it captures her pain,
her strength and her vitality.”
“But the redhead has enraptured me,”
I reply and pull my eyes free.
“Beauty is everywhere, if you’ll just slow down.
I found this print at a thrift shop downtown.”
Tami Karabin is a tutor in the Writing Center. She enjoys reading, writing, and other creative pursuits.