Second Hand

He called her bella

for beautiful

but their time

had run out.

Like a child

she gathered



bottle caps

in her blue

wagon and

on the corner

she gave treasures

to the boys

and girls who

crossed her path.

He watched her

from a distance

her hurried steps,

patient smile.

She loved

the simple

but she ran

to the beat

of a second-hand

too fast for him

to catch up.

In my advanced poetry class we are working on writing poems based off of music, rhythm, or sound. As I began writing, I found I was inspired by the ticking of a clock. The constant ticking, for me, resembled heartbeats and the uncertainty, or anxiety that centers around change and the fear of the future. I hoped to capture that feel through the short lines and meter of the poem.

3 thoughts on “Second Hand


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