Portrait of a Lady

Listen to the song: Portrait of a Lady It seems the birds are flying south; winter’s here and there’s no doubt the leaves are going to fall; and relatives will call their sons and daughter all, and tell them to be sure and stay warm. Yes, winter is that time of year when snow appears and birds make their way back south. . . prompting all the folks at home to keep their skin and chilly bones wrapped in sweaters so they won’t be cold.

The air just seems to crystalize, somehow bringing bluer skies and crisp autumn sounds. . . like the wind that brings the northern cold . . . the quilt a lady now unfolds. She sees the bare-branched trees outside the window; they seem to frown. She lays the quilt out on the bed with visions running in her head of all the things she has never done; all the words she might have said . . .all the children and the dead. . . The winter wind just blows. She sits down on the window sill; she opens up her mind to fill it with a thought of far away. . . a man she knew. . .she met him on a streetcar. . .it was a day, a day just like today. She wonders why October cold always seems to bring that old memory back again. . . of steaming coffee in a cup, and eyes that never would give up. . .as they watched across the table, her trembling hands. . . Suddenly she hears a stirring sound. . . and in the hall, the pounding of little feet. . . that bring a boy with younger eyes, to kiss, and hug her and make her sigh her silly thoughts right out the window. Yeah, now there’s just a pair of eyes that gaze at her from three feet high, and smile when she’s too sad, a childish face that wants to see all it was ever meant to be. . . till she takes it in her trembling hands. . . don’t cry, baby. Listen to the song: Portrait of a Lady Glass half-Full