She sits by the open window
The sunlight warm on her skin
Breezes weaving through her hair
Loose around her shoulders
Back as straight as a board
Hands folded neatly in her lap
Face untroubled,
Smooth and pale
Everything perfect
No wrinkles in her light blue dress
Sitting by the window
And yet-she isn't there
Her eyes lost their glimmer
That they once held
Like cold blue glass
Staring out
Into nothing at all
A lost soul
She knows where she is
Perfectly capable but
Choosing not to move
Sitting in the same chair
Visitors come now and then
Placing flowers in the room
The fragrance floating in the air
But she doesn't notice
They sit by her chair
Trying to wake her
Nothing works
She is alone still
In her mind
Drenched in her thoughts
Not wanting to get out
Today she is still there
Sitting alone by the open window
Sun shining on her pale face
Devoid of emotion
Everything preserved
Still life displayed forever
Not dead, but not really alive