She was beautiful
Her skin was like desert sand in the sunlight
streaked by thin sunbeams
Hair like loose cotton balls
Yet fiery red and
Her nose too, when it got even a little cold,
looks so red that it could stop traffic
Today she lost her chapstick, so her
lips were dry and as grey as the winter sky
She liked her coffee,
with honey and sugar
(because it didn’t seem right otherwise)
while reading with a lit candle –
a big red one
making
the living room smell like cinnamon hearts
all year round
She – was beautiful
Her fingers were rough and callused
from the years of
gardening
knitting
And climbing
But oh, they were
warm – warm
when she held my hand
to walk past graveyards
Because I thought the souls
would whisk me away
Though her other hand
She clenched tight
And whispered
You’re not forgotten
– Beautiful
On her days off
She would take all her loose change
And wander around the streets
Looking for people to share their
voice – voices that are ignored
by people passing by
She brings flowers
for retirees at the home
because she’ll never forget
that sparkle
in their
tired forgotten eyes
Her heart
was beautiful
The forgotten
never forget
her heart
so beautiful
because really
she was
beautiful
Unforgettably
beautiful
By Jessica Guo
Author’s note: ‘Beautiful’ comes from a conscious decision to find the more abstract beauty in our lives, rather than focusing on our society’s ever-changing definition of beauty.
