Conservation

Conservation

It is a tedious job
conserving old paintings
a type of hip replacement for canvas and paint
The conservation doctor
palpates the signs of aging with his eyes
Cracks on wood
Grime coverings
Pigments washed away by the rivers of time
It is a tender job watching changing light
in woman's face shadowed by a lover
or in the eyes of a milkmaid at work
The art conservationist gazes into the subject's eyes
Many times he does not tell her that her cheeks are pale
Her eyes lack luster
Her skin is colorless

The conservationist paints through her layer of demise
Was it a bad day that wore away her patina?
An unhappy marriage bed?
Children stillborn?
Too many hours working for other people
to earn money to buy bread?

He remembers his own mother's hands
when she poured him a glass of milk
and how she handed him a slice of pie

He wants the woman in the painting to be happy
He wants her story to continue
That is why he is tender with this woman
who is long gone and whose name
he does not know