She stood
by the side of the road.
About six,
though her face was old.
Her tattered blue dress billowed
in the early morning chill.
Time stopped
as our eyes met;
her stare unblinking
seemingly in a daze.
As I drove on
I thought of the streaks
of dry tears on her cheeks,
the deep cracks on her little lips,
yellowing hair on her head
unkempt,
and her thin arms
barely encircling
the baby tied precariously
to her tiny back.
PoP (c) 20 Sep 06
1 comment:
Your style is good Lisa, you will not have a difficult time cionvincing readers to read your books! I can see myself staring at the girl by the roadside.
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