Lydia

She pried open the shells all day.
Or cracked them with a hammer
extracting the purple vein
along the hinge of the shell.
They were hard to open.
She broke the handle on her little knife.
She left the worm inside to die
or gave it to the poor to eat.
Then wiped the white-washed wall
and left a purple hand.


Featured Download: If you would like a resource to help you write poetry like this, CLICK HERE.
READ NEXT:  Transitions Between Scenes in a Novel

Be sure to share and comment. And subscribe.

Comment early, comment often, keep it civil:

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.



Please comment & share with friends how you prefer to share:

Follow The Showbear Family Circus on WordPress.com

Thanks for reading the Showbear Family Circus.
  1. Like this, very noir. Can smell the stale smoke and caustic aroma of burnt coffee. That mewling grunt of a…

  2. Years ago, (Egad, 50 years ago!) I was attending Cal (Berkeley) I happened to be downtown, just coming out of…

Copyright © 2010— 2023 Lancelot Schaubert.
All Rights Reserved.
If we catch you using any of the substance of this site to train any form of artificial intelligence, we will prosecute
to the fullest extent permitted by any law.

Human children and adults always welcome
to learn bountifully and in joy.