You Don’t Know What You Missed…

Guest post:

She gazes at fields of Brandywine corn

in the dark, barely morn, and a sliver of sunlight

catches the mirror in her attic bower

her face pale as flour, she first turns away, then a glance on the run

she’s tidy and slender, her hair in a bun

she’s a seamstress, bow-maker, a candlelight sewer, with

a dress to deliver, to a brownstone, near the river with

sun-shaded grass, pale green as the eyes on this willowy lass

in her white dress, reading sonnets by Shakespeare and Byron

on a path where the mills make gun powder she goes, as

smoke from the sulphur crinkles her nose, then

a gentleman passes with barely a look…

she keeps on walking and closes her book

“you haven’t a clue, you don’t know what you missed.”

she whispers, then adds, “…and I’ve never been kissed.”

~ Mike Sackett

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3 thoughts on “You Don’t Know What You Missed…

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