Angel hair straps caress her silky
shoulders as she hops barefoot in the
park's recently fertilized greenery.
A friend watches carefully to see her
reaction to the city streets, a scream away
from the rural home she knew
for so long.
She curtsys to the oak trees in recognition
of their lives - long and not lean - laying
tulips at the graves of those
struck by lightning last week.
The secadas are whining but she takes
no hint of annoyance like the rest of us
they remind her of the tall grass and
the clubhouse in the back field
where her father would tend.
Awed by the nature she hadn't seen
she doesn't care that grass has
painted her knees and the birds
have left their marks.
She looks to the whispy clouds with
deathly pale eyes and thanks
the maker for creating the sounds
she can no longer see.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Seems like she would be a good character in a story. I enjoy the way you have begun to develop her.
She could be a good muse for you, yeah?
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i love the little story type bits with in this piece, i know that dont make sense, but this is well writen, i enjoyed reading this, i must give you the clappy dudes..... "bah humbug" (:
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Very beautiful. Your words you seem to use so carefully, and masterfully.
Great job! Really nice poem. -
Wow, this is a really interesting piece...it made use of many of my senses and the imagery and ideas are just beautiful...excellent job...
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