I saw her standing from my window
Standing head down
With feet fiddling the nourishing
Earth bellow
She wore a blue wool scarf
A black coat
Dark skinny jeans
Bright pink willies
Her bare hands wrapped around the
handle of a lemon shade umbrella
Her long white hair worn in a braid
With downcast hooded rosy eyes
As she stands in the rain
Beside the pond she stands
Where thrives the lotus bright
And I cannot help but think
"Who is he that grieves her heart?"
Suddenly, she looks to me
Face fresh with pearly morning dew
And with a knowing smile
She then disappears.
YOU ARE READING
Aged Words
PoetryA collection of old poems from two years ago. Some hateful, distrusting, paranoid, and perhaps not entirely sane. Others apathetic and sentimental. (Cover picture is not mine. I just added text and filters. Credit to whoever owns it.)
