One Day

by Sylvia

Distant memories hovering in the shadows,
as she takes the artist palette in trembling hand,
brush poised in the air,
slowly dabs it into the waiting paint.
Blue for the color of his eyes
golden yellow for his hair,
ruby red for his lips.

Can she capture the sparkle in those eyes,
the slight smile on parted lips, hair tousled by the wind,
the peau de soie, the skin of silk?

Working frantically, a face takes shape,
she touches the painted canvas,
is it genuine or an illusion?
With tenderness a finger traces the lines on the canvas,
the face comes to life and she knows he is real,
they loved before, deja vu

He was the raison d'etre, reason for being,
her joie de vivre, joy of living,
they will love again,
un jour, one day.