She Still Beats

Black

and 

white 

reflection 

guides

me to

the missing

piece of 

my crooked

smile. 

Gypsophila

printed 

wallpaper 

curls at the 

ends

whispering

her memories. 

Untouchable

voices

vacuum

up the past

of the

Montana

ranch colored

dreams

that fed

a young 

girls soul. 

Letting the freshly

starched 

white blouses

fly out in

the dust 

laying gently

on the 

hill of 

bear grass.

Her smile

overlays mine

like a June 

Ponderosa Pine.

Her memories 

swim with the

blood in 

veins 

of Irish 

and polish love. 

And

she still

beats.