Life Class Poem by Tom Billsborough

Does she wonder what they see in her?
Geometries of planes and curves,
Belly, breasts, jaw-line, ears
Faithfully transferred to paper
The angles, creases, hollows
Mapped as by a cartographer
But with perspective's
More demanding strictures?

Or is their focus greater?
Do some purport to draw that inner soul
The me in me, she wonders.
Brows stencilled with her frown.
Her grey eyes hinting shadows
Sad memory
Her lips tight drawn
As the onset of poverty.
Some may flail for symbols
Reality is all to those who think they know.
.
Or perhaps she thinks of none of these.
Perhaps her mind is dwelling in a nest
Or ordinariness: her shopping list,
A lover's date tomorrow,
Her economic worries,
Seeds for her sparrows
Old songs echoing through her brain.
This hard stool!
My bottom's getting sore.
A sly glance towards the clock.
Jeez. Another hour and more!

I look at her and wonder
If she actually knows I'm here!
And if so, what she sees in me.