Light from an unseen window falls
across her face, while she looks up
at someone she knows who’s just come in.
Her fingers pluck a small guitar.
Behind her head, a landscape. Fur
trims her golden gown. Unopened books
are piled off to her left –
been caught like this for centuries,
where all our sunlit moments are.
First published in Snakeskin 246, December 2017