Blue Dollar Alice
The henna blossoms outside her window
reminded her of the copper gilded ghosts
and the grief that changed her hair
from coal black apple shine to dirty dusty silver.
The thick irrational shiver,
adjacent to the dead temperature of her savior,
put poetry and novels in a box,
to be carted off forever. Her three legged dog,
Memphis, visits her unmarked grave daily.
He cries to kiss her, knowing, it’ll be never.
(C) Edelweiss Meadows-Millstone
6 thoughts on "Blue Dollar Alice"
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“coal black apple shine” Wow! Love the music of silver, shiver, savior! Poignant poem!
Thanks so much! I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment on my poem!
Lovely sounds and story. So evocative.
Thank you for reading my poem and for your enthusiasm for the poem ! ?❤️
. . .visits her grave everyday. . .
An unexpected turn to a poem already full of exceptional lines. . .
loved it.
Bruce Florence
Thanks so much!