Trapped

Honey colored hair waves in the wind
Caribbean stained eyes.
Alone in a field
Dry grass rubbing along her ankle.
Storm clouds rumble over head
Strikes of purple lighting light the sky.
She tries to stand but her legs won’t move
Her thin pale dress flutters with the wind.
The storm draws nearer than rain falls
Soaking her merciless.
Giving up she falls but
Conscious of every moment.
Honey colored hair wet against her shoulders
Alone, trapped, in a field,
That is her mind.

 

More by Anonymous

  • By Anonymous

    bloom

    on my bedroom dresser,
    demise blooms from cracked petals and dried stems,
    rubbing against a dusty glass vase. 

    each flower once flourishing and loved--
    only to be hung upside down,
    and left to die in a dank closet. 
  • Poetry

    By Anonymous

    turn my swag on

    Live, Laugh, Love.
    The beautiful flowers of earth sprout from the seeded soil,
    The trees blow back and fourth with the rythem of the wind,
    the ocean swells into giant pool along the rock cliffs of life,