passing glance - 1999
J. Bohrn scrapbook

in passing (second time)

so secretly vulnerable,
you, child;
the restless, intense little girl
with the ash hair and steel eyes,
who still makes strong showing
in her silent fight with mid-life;
perennial grace, 
draped in your soft-fitting white:
the only caress
you allow of yourself.
and if someone held you,
I think you would shatter
to sharp gleaming slivers
before you would fold in their arms;
	And when we passed
	I averted my eyes,
	in case you'd read in them
	the pain in what I just said.