Complacency of society
Left her alone in her apartment
But one day I happened upon her
She looked thin and frail
Her hair …wired out white
She was alone
Except for the people who covered her walls
Charcoal and pen on every scrap of paper she could find
Intimate…intriguing…the faces intense
Their expressions mesmerizing
They alone spoke to her
They were her daily companions
She was the designated poor…
She was alone
But in her solitude she found joy
In her drawings
Not recognized by society…
A profound artist among the faces
Her work was forever lost
Her name is not known
But an ARTIST she was
I was 24…she was 54
Now forty years later
Her work walks through my mind
IMG_3590 (Photo credit: Gritty Jane)
Footprints of Thoughts 
Sad story, but well said!!
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Thank you, Mich…I was living in London at the time…and in the convent and volunteered for Social Services one day a week…it was a one hour assignment…I wished that I would have done more for her…
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Powerfully poignant
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Thank you, Celestine! It was a moment I will always hold in my mind — I spent an hour with her that day–i was only assigned for that hour of my life–and I was in the convent, so the confines of my life did not allow me to return–I feel the constraints to this day of what I could have done for her… IF I had been more brave than rules…
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moving memoir
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thank you…I always wonder IF I make sense??? your words strengthen my writing…thank you, Paul!
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Poignant!
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Thank you, Tersia! It is a great compliment from you!
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