Barefoot
fleeing the City of Angels
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She drives barefoot. Alone along the 101 she zooms. Hightailing it toward someone else's son.
Her red carpets? Blisters and burns blanketing more than shoulders and arms.
All those taciturn LA smiles dropped to dust, worse than nothing, having once been promises, and now, how they've exposed themselves, hollow beings, vessels unwilling to hold out hope.
She feels the weight of waiting. Akin, she's become, to pennies in a jar beside the cashier's till, waiting on disaster to be worthy of change.
Some things can't be fixed with aloe, no matter the pressure, it's still the rub.
She's going anywhere else, anywhere the sun's not in her eyes and the dirt's not sand, hard packed from being walked all over.
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Copyright © 05/03/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
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Comments (10)
I feel like each paragraph had its own gem yet they still progressed and built beautifully! An excellent example of doing a lot with a little!
nice work Christy
The last line is super brilliant.
"hard packed from being walked all over." Gosh that line hit me like a ton of bricks! Your story was so sad and emotional! I loved it!
This packs a mighty punch for a micro! I hope she's happier.
She feels the weight of waiting. Fantastic line. Love this.
That final line is simply incredible. Your use of sunburn and sand as metaphor in this story was pitch perfect!
I've never spent more than about 48 hours at a time in LA, but this is how the place feels.
'Hard packed from being walked all over' geez that hit hard. You had me feeling for the main character in so few words :)
Barefoot and getting out of LA! Nice poem, Christy! Loved the descriptions. 💕