Her Truth

Strange, feathered filtered days
passing as tear drops through
a quiet dark welcoming its end
again.  Again and again,
a timepiece for a needed friend,
a tiny breaking splash
after the last, after the first,
which should have never come
from eyes arid with taunting truths
and wanting sweeter youths
with finer ends of iron lace.
Beauty and Strength confessed
a need for a better one to dress,
and she is always right as rest.