Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography


14 Comments

Downtime

DSC_0202-1

She was never any good at sitting
Restlessness came
When no one did
Refusing to let her forget
The ruin in their eyes

She knew best
How to walk, stumble
From bucket to can
As the wind cut by, wickedly
Unable to lift her strain

When breathing took its toll
She swallowed a penny
It went down smoother
Than the last ounce of hope

Now she sits
And waits
For a quarter

As they toss glances
And tip
Her heavy heart

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – November 25, 2014


8 Comments

In Love

Tomorrow–
In her heavy stupor
Without–burning–violently–
Could finally wrap the heat
For curling into a ball
Small shudders

Full of nothing
But consciousness

Positive–
Gradually
In love–

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – October 07, 2014