Jump Rope
Shannon,
I knew her in
middle school
friends caught
somewhere between
being children, pre-teen
adults.
We jumped with
a wooden handled rope
across the stage
in Tom Sawyer.
1890's leather
and petticoats
galloping and swishing
against exposed
pale thin knobbed
ankles.
Crossed stage right
to stage left,
cued when Tom and
Becky kissed.
Growing shannon
learned to kiss dangerous
exciting men.
Coccaine and Vodka
replaced petticoats
and plays. I heard
years later of the haunted
whispers of such a childs
fate.
Death stole her at the
age of twenty after
nightly slaps - screams
from one of her
immoral un-ingenues.
Shannon Stopped.
Stopped skipping,
laughing, playing,
acting.
She hung herself from a
rusty fire escape in a
little city alley with the
same wooden handled
jump rope at midnight
in march's icy rain.
Copyright © Meghan Marshall | Year Posted 2007
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