THE YOUNG WOMAN

It is strange this way I have, of leaving a small yearning part of myself behind. Such as I did that summer, many years ago. It was a pleasant evening, and  as I  strolled by her open door, I caught  a glimpse of her world.
I was a stranger, and glanced but once. But, too late, I'd fallen in love with what I saw.

In a  room aglow with the color of honey, she knelt, brush and pan in hand,
sweeping something from the golden polished boards. Her thick plaited  brown hair, gleamed, it was  partly covered with a large white handkerchief, and a long white apron covered her dark clothes. The whole room was a frame to the  lovely young woman. I tell you, it was truly a beautiful picture to behold, and I longed to own it. And so, I bought it, with my yearning  The image became mine forever.

Tushie  1992