Open Poetry #38 |
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By the Fruit of Her Hands |
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Liz Sinclair Member
since 2006-05-06
Posts 93Atlantis ![]() |
By the Fruit of Her Hands A stale breeze flows past where sultry temptation once lead the way. A sink full of dishes-- her calloused hands scrub away all traces of food she had spent hours preparing. Tidy glares at her. It's lemon fresh aroma, just a nauseating reminder of conversations that once peaked, but have now dissipated like the suds that cling. She stares out the window as she finishes the last of the dishes. She used to love watching the sunset from that spot, but she's got laundry waiting and her husband needs his blue striped shirt starched for work tomorrow. Funny, she remembers how soft her hands used to be. |
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© Copyright 2006 Lizette Sinclair - All Rights Reserved | |||
Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Liz Sinclair A moment in time, enjoyed. |
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Ella Blue Junior Member
since 2006-05-26
Posts 47 |
Awesome! A simple portrait of living, just plain living. It's hard to imagine there used to be passion in so many things that simply...are now. For her, she probably used to care that her hands were soft, but now it's just an observation that they aren't, even that seems to evoke no stirrings in her. good good good! |
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playing.with.crayons Member
since 2006-01-02
Posts 362Neverland |
much enjoyed this hm. I don't think I put that sentence together all that well. ANYWAY. lovely poem. hope to see more! cheye farewell the ash-tray girl |
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