Johanna

Today,
I had
To
Throw
Away
A
Wicker
Tray
Given
Me
Long
Ago,
By
A
Dear
Friend
I no
Longer
Know.
Dried
Out
By
Desert
Air,
It
Shattered,
Throwing
Fragments
Everywhere.
The
Lady
Is
In
Italy,
The
Last
I heard,
Then
No
Further
Word.
I miss
Her,
And
Despite
This
Loss
I can’t
Replace,
I still
Recall
The
Kindness,
And
Her
Lovely
Face.