The Painting

she spent her life kneading dough
but her heart billowed like a sail as
her eyes followed the gilt-framed eagle
over the windy crest
her stew was praised by all
her blueberry muffins
'mouthwatering'
when she died
they put on her stone
enclosed between two mourning doves
'good wife and mother'
but could they have known the longings
that once simmered in that now still heart
they would have been as amazed as
an explorer finding footprints
on the sands of Mars