The Diamond

At the mall

The flow of passers-by

are a parade of bodies in decrepitude

Faces drawn

Eyes blank

Bellies hang

Muscles sag

Feet shuffle

Lost in the fog of their minds

Bodies radiating neglect

Stress

Disassociation

The radiance of youth lost even on the young

Then a rare diamond appears,

vintage,

but radiating life and energy

the light gait

the lean body

the posture

The air of purpose and positivity

A diamond that has used life and not allowed life to use it.

A rare diamond indeed

One that lights up the dark corners of this world.

Be the diamond, my friend.

© Ingrid Fry