poem stitched in sidewalk chalk 

this poem is neither 
here 
nor there,
line nor square
               (one). 

she has scrib
-bled her
-self in sidewalk chalk, 
and then 
hopscotched across 
her own bright skin,
left just one small 
skipping stone within. 

shhh.
she’s still here,
still stained. 
waiting for rain. 

::

In April, we poem.
This is also a second offering for this week’s Quadrille. Come play!

This entry was posted in April PAD 2022, Quadrille and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to poem stitched in sidewalk chalk 

  1. Misky says:

    I do hope that rain comes to you in blessings!

  2. Shawna says:

    “bled herself in sidewalk chalk” WOW.
    “… and then hopscotched across” This is all so powerful to me as I have been reading much about suicides lately and love how an “almost” can be averted with a cross.

    I see a tortured soul becoming a Mary Poppins as a means of survival and mental health.

  3. Oh… really loved this… especially the ties to the hopscotching

  4. incredibly clever word usage, De!
    you’re so good!


    David

  5. Grace says:

    Beautiful beat to the words. I was skipping along with you.

  6. Helen says:

    Echos of e.e.cummings whose style of so admire … this is beautifully penned!!

  7. Arjan Tupan says:

    I really liked how “she” “hopscotched across her own bright skin”. Wonderful.

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