We were golden
then,
as golden as
your copper curls
still bright, but
cutaway to frame
your serious years.
We blazed the nights
& hurtled through
the days, creating
films across a stage
you grew to own.
Some of us
have fallen
by the way;
still recognised
in bleary shots,
& some no longer
claim to fly.
You were golden
then, immortal
in your beauty:
untouched by love
by life, candescent
in your vision.
Now to see your
name embellished
high, it makes me
smile, your radiance
filters through,
I sigh:
remembering the glitter
& the tears.
We were golden then.
Victoria Mosley 