~ .. and Strangers Parted ~
The tightrope she tip-toed
between a lovers heaven
and fathers hell.
-----------------------------------------------------
Would he stand in a streetlight spotlight
bathed in neon pollen,
while she crept from her prison
hoping those old hinges
would not scream her passing.
High-heeled hobbling
along a road with many dangerous curves,
her only protection
a thin coating of trust
and a glow of expectation.
What girl is not a woman
in innocent shroud,
peeping through crochet
with naïve eyes
and raw illusions,
while wide-boys wait
for the song of a maidens hym(e)n,
knowing love bite crimes fade
in dawn chorus,
and her pillow
is all that will share her tears,
her sheets soiled
with little-girl-lost smears.
Copyright © Colin Marschall | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment