Where Are You

In your becalmed thrall you hold to a compose

  Still as motionless water is such a repose,

That in the realm that must give you sight

   You seem a being from which life has taken flight,

Your face from which all activity has flown

   There's not scintilla of passing time shown,

Upon your features that emanate a gossamer huen tone

   Show your flesh colors are like marbled bone.