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Passions in Poetry

Annas Plight V 2.0

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since 06-28-2002
Posts 1161

0 posted 06-17-2014 02:14 PM       View Profile for Tomer   Email Tomer   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Tomer

She was a bit timid in the way she walked through the parsley cut grass.  The way her cheeks seemed to rub themselves against the red dye of the suns rise.  It wasn’t the way she walked with her vanilla toned flats, but it was how her hips moved against the right and left side of her white blouse’s hinges.  Her hair staying with the winds soft sigh and she began to see a certain comfort in how the cars began to move up and down past her home towards the stop light.  She often wondered where people were going every morning.  But, with each passing car, her thoughts mirrored their sentiment.  As the sun began to arc, bridge itself over the cities skyline, she began to wonder whether her dreams would ever come to fruition.  Along the way she had helped so many, trusted herself to bring them back to the days of when they were children and smiles became often silent mysteries to the autumn ease.  Sacrificed her beautiful strands of brown hair at times so the way their hands once shook would become sound again enough so they could move on again and pay it forward to somebody else.  But, it was time for her to finally move on, to realize that her dreams, her roots from childhood, and bring them to light, the same way she dreamt her way through the fields to the left of her quiet white, wooden home.  She had finally become a woman.  Through the turmoil, the quiet tracks that seemed to follow her along the way began to sharpen, bolden, leave marks along the pavements uneven squares, as she not so subtly began to leave her mark.  She was beginning to believe in herself; seeing her dreams through the days rise, and seeing them through her eyes instead of her hearts desire under the nights silence.
It was a long way back, from her latest journey, or escapade, if you will.  But, she was slowly returning back to form.  The challenges she imposed on herself had begun to wear thin and even though she had great strength, sometimes it was too strong for its own good.  Everyone needs help along the way and the greatest strength that Anna finally showed was allowing herself to let those around her finally see her eyes for the very first time.  Her heart was always so poignant, large enough to carry the backdrop of the sea, and trust the palm trees to the Sequoias to protect her through the most trying of times.  So, she returned home.  She came back to where her roots first started.  Like all things in life, even if it was the people you had known your entire life, it still had a feel of unease.  It felt like she had come home to a place where her eyes couldn’t seem to let go.  But, it was her father after all.  The man that raised her; scarified so much so he could see her flourish and see the mountaintops from above instead of always looking from the ground up.  She knew it wouldn't be easy to come home and let her guard down, let him know some of the foolish things she had done on the voyage she had embarked upon.  But, he never flinched, never seemed to waver in his stance, and through his strength brought comfort back to Anna.  She unfolded her eyes for the very first time in front of him and it was like they had never missed a beat between one another.  So, she slept through the night and began the journey back to finding herself, again.

The way her hair began to spread across white cotton pillow
against the fresh scented white, linen sheets
as her hands, those thin, rose like fingers
that began to massage the sheets
as she quietly fell asleep.

It was a rather fog filled morning; mist filling the air outside her window sill. She stared at the wall as she typically used to do when she was in angst. When she wasn’t sure where the answers would begin to come from.  But, through her previous angst, the lustful mistakes, she knew she had to keep on going.  The heart of a fighter.  It wasn’t from her parents, nor the countryside, it was inside of her.  You could say it was the size of her heart, but it was more than that, it was the way she denied those who doubted her, including herself.  So, she lightly began to massage the left side of her white, linen sheets.  Her fingers moving in half circles, then turning towards the air, as her eyes began to move back and forth, as she summoned the courage to do the smallest of things.  Simply, take a shower.  Her back was a bit arched as she rolled out bed and entered the comforts of her bathroom.  The mirror did her no favors, though.  Her skin was pasty, pale without any excuses.  Her brown strands of hair a bit more thin and her eyes more sunken.  But, she followed her usual routine, even though her heart and mind weren’t quite the same, yet.  She turned on the shower, and simply kept going.  The way her mother used to even though her anguish touched her skin just as deep.  Anna knew that this pain was temporary.  She knew the skin of pain  in her arms; frail, barely able enough to reach for the little makeup under her eyes.  And, even though she reached for her favorite light, shaded red lipstick, she pulled back at the last moment.  Realizing it wasn’t quite time to let go of the pain that remained on her face even after she had just showered.

Summer of 1991:
Anna still wasn’t getting much sleep, anymore.  She still couldn’t seem to lose those memories from her past.  Slight lines underneath her eyes, and the mirror did her no favors, as she stared into it.  Somewhat vacant, a bit lost in how she couldn’t manage to get a good nights sleep, anymore.  So, she slowly began to move her right hand into the air, as she always did as a small girl.  Twirling it a bit to the left, then back to the right, and she slowed her breathing down just enough to summon that same courage she had always had within her from the day she was born.  So, even though her eyes were dull, her hands felt wrinkles they had never seen before, she reached for the shower knobs and simply kept going.  The water running, as her brown strands, now more frail then ever, ran underneath the pressure of the water as she breathed a sigh of relief.  Even if it was temporary, she knew in her heart that the way the water came down on her hair would softly begin to partially begin to drip down her neck, then comfort her, as it moved through her breasts, all the way down to her slender, pale feet.  As she finally stepped out of the shower, Anna’s thoughts never stopped moving, rampant, unapologetic, and teased even the slightest of grins she carried on her face.  She tussled back and forth with who she was.  Once a woman, then a girl, then a woman, again.  Her shoulders slouched as she confronted the mirror once again.  And, she realized theres no easy road back to becoming whole again.  To becoming that woman that she could see through the fields, the mountaintops, the green, shrouded grass that lay in the back of her two story home.  

(Anna’s Mother Sophie)
Anna didn’t remember great details about her mother.  But, even if Anna’s memories of her mother were fleeting, they still touched her hands and moved all the way up to her wavy, brown hair.  She could tell by her mothers eyes, the picture that stood on her fathers mantle of the day they stood hand by hand on the sandy front with the sea watching over them.  When she was younger, Sophie used to stand against the brick wall of the coffee shop she frequented, her curls of brown hair shaded the way her hips moved inward, flats lined carefully next to the road, as she always looked towards the sun with ease.  

© Copyright 2014 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved
Member Empyrean
since 11-16-1999
Posts 32150
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

1 posted 04-11-2015 08:38 PM       View Profile for JamesMichael   Email JamesMichael   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for JamesMichael

nice writing...james
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