Friday, December 3, 2010

Let me whisper

She sits flicking
through the pages
for someone to call,
a connection by chance
may answer.

She stares ahead
wired for silence,
freckled shoulders
lead to slender fingers,
listening and watching
for a name.

She sits so still
in the underground
for her train to come,
each picture pauses
a gentle breeze.

Look at me, tonight
forget your mirror,
please let me whisper
how perfect your hair
is, clipped and tied back.
Enhanced by Zemanta

No comments:

Post a Comment