Virgin Ann Quindo Poet Free verse

I cry, over a hairpin

loud laughter echoes through the pitch black sky
the usually dark street seems to lighten up
as I walk in it with you like we're going home 
to a place we own

we laugh and laugh until our stomachs hurt
echoing through the neighborhood
late at night until it dissipates with our breath

in my bedroom, we close the door
snuggling together like an old married couple
talking about the silliest moments of our life
and all random things there is until it bores

I saw it, at the top of your head
a bright orange hairpin
clinging onto your hair not wanting to fall
you left it on my table under the yellow lighted lamp

you washed your hair and let me dry it
combing it until you feel sleepy
leaving the hairpin on my table illuminated
by the dim light making it stand out best
out of all the things that sits on the table

days later you left to go home
it was there on my table
an orange hairpin
barely noticeable despite it's bright color

that hairpin reminded me of you
your laugh and your breath
your hair and your scent
of all the things we do and
on how we talk about tomorrow
as if the world is ending that night
how we laugh while we eat
how I make silly moves while we walk
that hairpin is you
a reminder that I once loved a person
a gentle remnant of your presence

I call it you
you who knew me so well
you who knows my everything.
you.
and I cry over it.
I cry over you.
I cry, over a hairpin

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Beryl Edmonds May 6, 2026 at 1:36 PM Enjoyed the read. One can cry over a cherished hairpin, because of the memories it brings of a love held within… Beryl