A Thousand Words

A Thousand Words

Lauren Newton

Fall 2018

The woman smiles with lidded eyes, her child’s

cheeks flushed and fresh from Johnson’s baby soap.

Her tremulous stare pierces through my phone.

My charcoal’s waiting patiently. I start.

I draw her mouth so she can speak to me,

her arms to hold her girl. She whispers soft

and shares her name. Marie, she says, what’s yours?

I share, we laugh, I shade her shadow dark.

Her husband doesn’t pay her attention.

This drawing is a gift for him. Maybe

he’ll see beauty in them, if we are art,

she hopes and looks at me, her tears bubbling. 

Always alone despite my mother’s pleas.

Don’t fret. My subjects keep me company.