Frances Runs Away
She exits the Chinese Restaurant,
scattering all in her hurry,
her napkin falling,
it flutters down in slow motion;
a snow-goose hovering over a red cloth.
'Not a good way to break-up Frances,
not cool'.
On the pavement, high-heels clacking,
Frances running, her calves straining,
tendons bolting her onward.
On its fore-legs, her toppling chair
seems to want to follow –
a thunderclap
as the napkin lands.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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