Inside the Lines (A Poem)
A Poem I Found Digging Through "the Files"
The colors filled their space and nothing more.
But she knew secrets only wax could tell,
like, put on thick, the black could make
the witches' kettle shine.
She was not bound by green trees
and yellow suns.
Color was her choice,
and the background whispered,
"Freedom."
Older now, she manicures
the curbside lawn,
keeps flowers neatly rowed,
smiles as neighbors pass.
But she has secrets still.
Her back yard is her own.
The fence, set not for keeping in,
but keeping out.
There she plants her pots with
would-be weeds.
She ornaments a rusted van
with wind-chimes made of
broken glass and tin.
She listens to the chickadees
aflitter in the bird-bath tub--
its clawed feet painted purple--
listens to them singing,
"Freedom!"
Published by Tina Twito
I'm 39, with a wonderful husband (in Iowa), and a daughter who lives in NC with her hubby (love them both!). I write mostly children's stories and poetry (rhyming poetry, traditional poetry, haiku, but mostl... View profile
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5 Comments
Post a CommentJust adore your poetry!
Wow--again. Breathtaking.
It is funny how you see old tubs used as flower gardens.
And I thought all the good stuff was BETWEEN the lines. Nice job.
very deep, you said so much in those few lines, beautiful