White walls surround her unseeing mind, white ceilings and white floor.
Clothed in a robe of rich white silk behind a clean white door.
A sundial in the room sits she, inside out discerns.
Memories of times gone by, the fire in her heart burns.
Today she feels alone and calls her servant to the door.
Invites the ghostly image to sit down by her on the floor.
Tells it of her life gone by as an actress long ago.
In a voice so like her own whispers that it used to love her so.
With a smile contented down lies she as her servant fades away.
Her eyes close on her whitewashed life to end another day.

(Photograph of artwork produced by Kerry Francesca Hindmarch)

Written in response to weekly writing challenge


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