A Hidden Gem

She gave me some sparkly shoes today

yet the souls of Her feet burn hard

from remnants of the meth lab.

She runs through the long grass

to home, where the mould prevails

even though She is Clean.

She will cut Her grass and the neighbours too

with a lawn mower

that hasn’t been stolen yet.

Her heart of gold sits at the bottom of the stairs

and slowly climbs to the grey haired woman –

The treasure that She holds

is unseen to Her.

                                Jackie Blair McSween, June 1, 2011

One comment

  1. Joanna Gilman Hyde Blair

    Jackie, this is a very good poem, but I think it could be improved by taking out the last two lines. (The “treasure” should be obvious.)

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