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
he 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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