Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1 (James Whistler), Sonnet #573

 

There’s expectation in her face

Even though she’s dressed in mourning,

But for a bonnet of white lace

And white cuffs and a wedding ring

Half-hidden by a kerchief gripped

So tightly it might have ripped.

Her straight chair sits on a gray rug,

Shoes on a padded wooden rest.

Silver threaded curtains hug

Gray walls as if they hid a guest

Once welcomed and now departed.

I wonder how her son started —

Arranging the grays and blacks square

Or with his mother’s haunting stare.

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My Human Disguise.