Auburn and Ivory

A tale.

Two lovely girls 

chalk on their hands,

scrapes on their knees,

we knew them as Auburn and Ivory. 

Auburn was a gal of

independence, cruelty,

she watched the boys

watch her.

Ivory was a different kind of storm;

she was sweeter than sugar

with a heart bigger than her face,

so big, that at times it blocked her vision. 

But through naive eyes 

they both saw,

for at their age,

they only played with chalk.

There was a man,

passed daily past the park,

hungrily watched the innocent girls

play their game of hopscotch. 

That was, until,

the day he struck.

Ambulances as bright as the sun,

flashing blue and red

but in all the chaos

I couldn't tell the

blood from the red

of the sirens.

It wasn't until my eyes

met the tearful faces

of the people swarming like ants

that I noticed the Auburn hair,

and Ivory skin. 

Reviews

[Sue Hart]

How absolutely incredible. I am impressed. A short story poetry. I enjoyed it tremendously. I do believe you have a new admirer.

[Moebia]

Thank you!

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Great job I loved it Moebia:)

[Moebia]

Thanks Jonathan!

[0000000000000000000000000000]

You are very welcome Moebia:)