THE ROUGE

Spring, 1923
A rain crow calls on this soft eve

While love is new
The time is due
For "her young man"
To request her hand

Her mother cups her chin
Touching the ivory skin
Her trembling hand moves across
Her daughter's features, curving soft

"I know just the touch"
And she opened a long pearl lid box
"Just a touch of rouge
Only a touch of blush will do"

In a scarf of white lace
And with rouge on her face
Her skirts softly swish
As she walks toward her first kiss.

Spring, 2011
A rain crow calls on this soft eve