He Brushed

Short

He brushed against her red hair

Then moved on from there

To the girl with the golden curls

While tears flowed upon the ground

 

Red hair laced between the tears

Soon he tired of the gold

And sought out brown

What a lovely crown

 

Then boisterously he blew on threw

Now none wears a crown

He is left with nothing to entertain

Only snow and ice remain

Reviews

[Tina Kline]

This is rather sad, someone using others, loving and leaving them. The imagery and the way you told the story is fantastic. There is a whole book in these lines, I think. This is wonderful work!

[An owl on the moon]

In these brief lines, you give us a glimpse of a story broad and long... The loving gone.. the distance.. the longing.. the emptiness.. In it all, your colors paint the story in a sorrow as vast as winter...