In Passing

It was odd, she hoped not prescient, to find her likeness included on the mantle piece; her mother's shrine to those who were loved and lost.  She had always hated that photograph. 

The Shadow Stage (after Duane Michals)

At night,

 The stage was set.  No need to be alone.

From out of the shadows she conjured her man.

  They whispered together til dawn.

Like a Red Rag to a Bleeding Heart

Heart of Stone

As George Gissing once observed - and I paraphrase - she could afford to be kind when she was financially and emotionally secure.  But it's hard to be generous when life's a bitch.

She Hadn't The Heart For Much But Her Hair Got Everywhere

The Devil You Know

She's Living at 72dpi