Jewels**** Poem by Neil Young

she paints a stillness in this room... one her feigned neurosis never saw

inheritance... her pampered cats ate most of it
I sit here with her costume jewels
not worth more than a box of bitter memories

strange how minds apportion their nostalgia to these knots of junk
a snatch of photographs capture her
in clumsy pearls... a tiger broach

in kodacolor rooms... her dark stare lives beyond their paper walls