velouria Posted October 3, 2004 Report Share Posted October 3, 2004 Reflections of New Year’s Day The woman with the red hair speaks with an accent. She works, and I watch her from my balcony in wonder so vague that it is almost boredom. I am vacant. The boxes look heavy, her frame is bent against them as I stare through her, past the sun in the red glinting of her tidy middle aged locks pulled straight back. Today means nothing, tomorrow even less, for it will be the same as every yesterday I have ever had. Still, I delay my breath, wait for the ashes to fall from my fingers. If I could hope, it would be for the woman to look up, notice me watching her and turn away, dismissing the intrusion on her strained efforts to get things done. And, being thus acknowledged, I would be free to retreat to my cage for a time, satiated for the moment. Because she saw me, I still exist, though my reflection has utterly vanished. She carries on, unaware, and I am assured of the fact that I have lost myself enough to be lost to anyone else who might search for what I once was. Jan 1 2004 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lostsoul Posted October 21, 2004 Report Share Posted October 21, 2004 nice one velouria...really like what you're trying to say there. XX :) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
verbena Posted October 21, 2004 Report Share Posted October 21, 2004 Oh Velouria, I love that! I can see you both and the whole scene plays out in my mind's eye. You are a talented poetess. Ann Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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