Harry Horsman Poet Free verse

Tied To Tradition

They pierce the unwelcoming night,
perserving eyes that receive nothing 
but an unwholesome darkness,
hot accelerated breath scorches the
freezing air, as it penetrates
in entirety her raffish body while a 
shivering anatomy provokes an age
of innocence, yet a stark awareness
of life’s tribulations, as she tucks in
her scarf, fastens her top button
before impetuously walking off into
the shadows to confront her next trick.

© Harry J Horsman   2022

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I Am Anaya August 29, 2022 at 3:44 PM Imagery impeccable for a story of an old tradition that still thrives. Your character is well fleshed out, three dimensional. Faving it! Warmest wishes

Michael Tor July 8, 2022 at 9:07 PM A sad reality you have made come alive with sad truth Harry. She is someones sister, daughter, etc the unlucky with no direction suffer the most...

Panagiota Romios July 5, 2022 at 11:32 AM Excelllent write, Harry! Stirs many thoughts! Love, Panagiota xxx

Vijay Pandit July 5, 2022 at 8:27 AM Brilliant write, Harry. You gave her form, shape, and feelings--I see her fastening top button--walking off to confront her next trick.