Saturday 29 November 2008
Just a Smile
She doesn’t see herself
Standing still
With the wet wind blowing
Burnt orange leaves
Around her heels.
She watches a barber-cut head in the crowd, chocolate smooth.
And then those blue eyes flash back
And find her with a tentative smile with dimples but no white teeth.
And then she sees smooth and brown again
Watching his head in the crowd bob away.
And this was enough
So she walks away too.
Eleanor Joslin.
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1 comment:
Nice to see you've joined the blogging world! Keep it up.
This is a good poem. The sort of thing you might enter into: http://www.academi.org/lit-comps/i/132995/ - for example. (Academi is a website for welsh writers. It's got lots of helpful thing on it if you're looking to get into writing for more than fun.)
Marc
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