torn pages from a Christie mystery
scattered on a hardback chair,
cracked wine glass
dripping blood red drops of wine
on the oak floor,
she left in haste
running away from the scene of crime.
the space where her happiness wilted
and almost died.
now freeing herself from the
meditative monotonous melancholy,
heading towards adventures unknown.
…the sunflower on the pavement glowed iridescent,
swaying to the fading footsteps.
I really like the image of the last line, especially the swaying of the so flower. Movement. Gentle but decisive. Well done.
Thanks for the encouragement 🙂 I do plan to revisit this sometime in the near future