Second Hand

He called her bella
for beautiful
but their time
had run out.
Like a child
she gathered
shoes
buttons
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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