Melancholy, Oil on Panel
Copyright Virgil Elliott, All Rights Reserved.

melancholy

she wears her melancholy well
if fits her like a twilight satin dress
that, clinging to her spirit in a tight embrace
would vulnerably leave
her soul exposed and bare for all to see

she's stunning seen in little more
than nightfall shadows blue on midnight black
her dusky hair arranged in gentle disarray
she looks on life's account
with eyes that mirror darkgray autumn skies

she's learned to move in graceful steps
upon the dancefloor of her life's abyss
in fluent wariness her feet seek stable ground
her shoulders draped in shade
she'll meet your gaze: this dance is hers alone

Blues Café

This public place
where eyes, exposed, 
meet
trading glances passed in guilt;
my gaze met yours
and though you may not know -
I shared your pain.