grecian woman

Wrapped in folds of cloth draping over the shoulder, she stands. Both feet flat on the ground and strapped into sandals. Belted, the robe gathers and crinkles to the stone. Her hair is braided around like a crown, intermingled with a vine or two. Time has deepened the creases in her skin and stolen appendages—once she had hands whitened smooth to hold.  Now a board of sundry tools is perched in the crook of an elbow. But for a moment she is caught contemplating. Eyes cast down, a smile plays at the corners of the lips, but the sincerity of life tugs at the joy and damps the sparkle of life.