Sculpting Clay

The lights of sunset strip have dimmed
to char, so long since evenfall.
A fading starlet's eyes are brimmed
with tears--one more forgotten thrall
who keeps her locks of chestnut trimmed,
takes stock of inventory,
lays bare her soul to cheat decay
and rewrite her life's story.
He sculpts her in immortal clay,
she surrenders wholly, for he
holds time's determined march at bay
from fields of fading glory.