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she sees her lying in a
field of wildflowers
adrift in sweet williams,
asters and pinks
cradled in queen anne’s lace
her hair once the color
of taffy now streaked
gold by the sun
her freckles blending
into honey on her face
she closes her eyes to
drift along with her
feeling the breeze a
silk scarf unfurled
ever so soft as satin
until she hears as
from a distance far
a soft whistle blowing
faintly she nearly feels
an approaching train
but as she opens her
eyes the girl with the
taffy colored hair and
honeyed skin slips
away leaving her
in a small cold room
the whistle from the
tea kettle blowing
louder…steam rising
in the still dank air
she is brought ’round
her eyes glance about at
paint cracked walls to
a chipped tile counter
a clock chiming the hour
as she blinks back hot
salty tears to pull her
ragged sweater about her
she touches a dirty vase
holding a bit of wildflowers
© February 2013
Renee Espriu
This is for dVerse Poets Pub http://dversepoets.com/category/openlinknight/
