Tuesday, January 7, 2014

I Left Her There

She's there somewhere.
She used to be here,
But I left her there.

The one who loved to sing
As much as she loved the smell
Of a new box of crayons
(That first-day-of-school smell).

The one who drew stories
Others might have written.

The girl who let her Muse
Take her on winged journeys,
Farther than her imagination could see,
Higher than her thoughts could breathe.

The child who held up
Fists full of sunlit beach sand,
And let the fine, tan powder
Sift through her fingers
And sprinkle her face with stars
That sparkled the rest of the day.

I left her there,
An unfinished sentence, past tense,
Testing the sparkling clear waters with her toes,
Unaware of the icy tides
That crashed on the shore
And stopped the heart.



© Judith C Evans 2014
 

9 comments:

kim vallen said...

I love this! Thanks for blessing my day with your writing! Love you, Kim

Judith C Evans said...

I'm glad you liked, it, Kim. Thanks for commenting! Love you, too!

Rachel Gloria Mayer Walsh Schapiro said...

love the metaphor in the ending stanza, lovely poetry,
thanks.

Kate Neal Virginia Ann Hargis said...

a winded journey is fun for all writers.

Sheila Todd Julio Hallelujah Monduwan said...

a child left behind, which gives us leeway to image, worry, and search for answers.

interesting poem.

Stephan Peter Carl Victor Hudson said...

agree, our five senses grow with our mind and knowledge,

awesome imagery.

Christopher Kerry Scott Sophie Johnson said...

awesome imagery on your take of life's faces.

Sheryl David Tanya Page Raun said...

excellent.

Mimi Brad Sheng Pallin Henry said...

delightful spirit there,

cheers.