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Helga
was an accomplished artist
before the tremors came,
rendering her right hand useless
for the steadiness and control
of crayon, pen, or brush.
The tremors had slithered
down the bloodline of her father,
silent vipers saturating
the flesh of her soul with venom.
Irene took her in, nurturing
the remnants of her genius
with good books and the pleasure
of conversation ever fresh,
provocative, and engaging.
Each grew to love the other’s
companionship so much that
neither felt the dubious need
for pastor, close friend, or lover.
Larry D. Thomas
Los DÃas de los Muertos
(Big Bend area, far West Texas)
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