Going Down

The girl at her window looked out expectantly.
Clad in lime green silk and delicate ochre shoes,
she could have passed for sixteen, were it not for
those knowing eyes gleaming with the memory of what
was to come.

A secret smile played around the carefully done
redcurrant lips with just that hint of transparent gloss.
A cool wind slid in and brought her cheeks alive and
sunlight caressed her well brushed hair,lending sparks
to its paleness.

Time stood still when she least wanted it to. Glancing in the
mirror yet again,she straightened the solitary emerald laughing
back at her, sighed happily, and went back to the waiting window.

No one remembered just when the doorbell rang, or how she flew
down the staircase and then paused at the foot, flushed,heart racing.

But they did remember,how, not very much later she was found,
hair unkempt,cheeks pale,all in red,
lips blue.

And the emerald was still laughing.