Sandra Martyres - Images

At the break of dawn each day
when I awake
my eyes invariably stray
to that niche in the wall
where a portrait used to hang
a hook
rusty with the ravages of time
still there
and while I stare
the wall
is suddenly no longer bare
the image of a face appears
with those piercing eyes
as always so endearing
and that proud smile
of a young ambitious man.

Gradually the image changes
a receding hairline
graying whiskers
a wiser look
a kinder smile
yet in those eyes
something seems amiss
I see a sadness that never used to be.
And as the image slowly fades
as always
and the memories of a lost decade
invariably remain
I wonder why.

Sandra Martyres

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/images-21/