Shadows

In the softness
Of a sleepy afternoon
Her silken skin
Is draped
In castoff creamy sheets.
Touched
By the westering sun
A succulence
A pinkish peach
Damps her lips,
Just hidden
By the raven darkness
Of her hair.
My penitent memory
A day too soon,
Is thrown,
Thrown into the ashen grey
Of this the first
Wednesday afternoon of Lent.

JL Feb 13. 15:45