We Write Poems, Prompt #87
Begin at the Bottom: Write a poem about feet.
Rain-Soaked Monday
Dense, icy rain pelts down
all day. Night comes early.
Outlined against pewter
pigeons brood into feathers,
stare with dull eyes,
beaks cracked and scarred.
She slogs across puddles and
soggy pages of USA Today,
cold rainwater soaking her shoes
clear through to her toes,
pulls the collar of her coat tighter,
sinks numb fingers into deep pockets.
She shivers as dampness creeps
into her bones, distracts her
from loneliness. She catches the 6:32,
crowds in beside blank-faced strangers,
returns to her solitary cell.
Grayness to darkness to infinity.
3 comments:
I'm so glad you posted this - it's rich with detail and imagery and is so well told, I felt chilled to the bone after reading it! A very good poem ...
I like the visual and psychological exploration of your subject here, Marianne. Sort of treading the line between what a novelist and a poet writes.
I'm agree with S.E. Your details are wonderful!
Post a Comment