Five foot two, eyes of
brown, last seen wearing dark green.
Black hat, also gone.
Falling farther off
course, a bottomless journey
that threatens to stay.
Questions posed as clues.
Perhaps a tender heart worn
yearning at the edge.
It’s been almost a year since I’ve done one of these portraits. I’m still getting Silver Alerts in my inbox on a regular basis though.
The poem uses words from the Alert for Henry, as well as the Secret Keeper’s words this week
CLUE – COURSE – TENDER – THREAT – POSE
You can see the entire Missing series here.