She was about nine or ten
selling bunches of red roses
a tattered frock, mangled hair
but her eyes – shone!
as she stood on tip- toe and stretched out her hand
when my car stopped at the traffic signal.
I smiled and she smiled back
“Aren’t you afraid of the cars” I asked
“No” she laughed
then showed me a wound
which looked like a dark rose –
the colour of blood!
Destiny Poets
Uniting and celebrating the best "Writers" and "Poetry" from around the world centred out of Destiny Church Wakefield
A neatly rendered poetic mise-en-scene;a deftly captured monent in time.
WELCOME TO DESTINY POETS!!
Thank you so much, honoured to find a place here!
How tender the lines are…
Thank you Ritamvara 🙂
It’s an outstanding composition.
Thanks a lot Naheed Akhtar
A poignant,beautifully-crafted poem.Giad to see you here,dear Sunita.
Vijay Nair Sir, thanks a lot !
Touching lines enhance the visceral appeal of the poem
Thanks a lot 🙂
Hints are signposts of true poetry. Here it is too palpable, kudos poet,