Clock ticks too loud
drank too much wine
her mother would frown if she knew
but she doesn't
dips the silver spoon
into black coffee
she hadn't felt this rough in ages
pleased she was
no work today
no need to wash
glanced at the notebook by her hand
pages unwritten
hands too timid.
A contest entry
- Just another contest by Randomly Beautiful.
1000 points, ended April 7, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Nicely done. Thanks for the entry.
-
You are as good at free verse
as you are with rhyme - such a
stunning piece of poetry here,
Hilly. I adore it. Love, Lane
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