Contingency wear, a spare, for last minute impromptu dinner or show, now chemically cleansed of man heat and man smell. Deep dark charcoal grey and vague pinstripe — soft rich wool — it filled the cocoon of plastic and moth crystals.

The earrings nested in his handkerchief; retrieved by the cleaners went into the dresser drawer with the spare underwear and socks, in the corner under the links tray.

Later months extending into years it was good to embrace and relive, the interludes, if only in imagination and memory.

The other day I rediscovered the jewelry; still as he had wrapped the pieces; museum objects frozen in place, expectant.

So many years since the early morning quiet latch click and then, so soon, the official car, dark blue at the curb I shed tears, blue in joy for their beauty, perfectly preserved.

Cold blue tears, barren. Noble Cause


W Lorraine Watkins
Content & Photo
© 2005

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