The only memory I have of her is a fragile whisp, like smoke
from a candle in the moments after it is blown out.
In this single recollection, she is only the
bottom half of her face because the sun hangs
bright behind her.
Her teeth are straight, her grin is wide.
Distantly, I know that I am beaming back at her, begging that she takes notice.
She doesn't.
Her smile is not meant for me.
Author notes
Linen
A contest entry
- Click 67. by perfectsunset.
625 points, ended November 19, 28 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
I really love this.
The reader can feel the emotion of this so well.
Your layout of the poem effectively adds impact.
Very well done.
-
A simple beauty you have
penned here! I enjoyed
this much
Best of luck & thanks for entering
Adding your comment:
