Walking through back streets
with eyes cast down,
playing a silly game
of trying to avoid the cracks
in the pavement.
Her mind is absorbed
with the childlike diversion;
each step measured carefully,
she must not step on a crack…
Unexpectedly, she lifts her head
and wonders where she is.
The location is strange,
her eyes dart around for recognition
…nothing memorable materialises.
A familiar panic rises.
She’s lost, yet, she knows
it is her home town.
“Just around this next corner”
She turns and turns and turns again
no matter how hard she tries
she can’t get back to where she needs to be…
Comments
MistakenMagic | August 30, 2009 - 19:14
A very sad but touching poem, Val. The repetition really helps you feel the narrator's frustration and the last line is perfect!
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | August 31, 2009 - 10:17
I agree with Magic, Val. The frustration comes across very well in the this poem. It really is a feeling like nothing else, whether it be as a child or an adult, when one gets lost.
Hope things are well with you, Val:-)
Tina xx
Cavalcaderl | October 8, 2009 - 14:11
new bradene
sad but I know exactly
what you mean same as
silver-spun-sand says
and people are if I was in place or left
panic on my own be left was
awful from experiences
at one time or to far away now.
bless you my poor belated Mum did that
someone gave her lift. fete had to ask
shop near here where we lived, we got her taxi home.
age one is not so good, him and I often loose things
but much younger
julie x cavalcader (;-