What Was Her Name
She sits upon the wooden fence.
The day is cold.
Her fists are clenched.
And, I wonder what goes through her mind.
This girl of ten, eleven, nine?
She stares at all that passes by.
She coughs, then snorts and squint her eye.
And looks out all confused,
but with bemuse,
At this ol’ world out there.
She moves along the wooden fence.
Changing scope, her hopes and dreams;
Or, so it seems?
To me.
Or, is this where she wants to be.
Copyright © Gavin Joachims | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment