And His Name Was Charlie


by Joshua on March 15, 2012

An original poem by Nora Garriga.

she was an angry girl
mad at the world
always looking at the ground
never making a sound
her darkness blocking out the sun shining above

it was a cold park bench
flaking green wood, with sides made of cement
he was sitting towards the east, watching the sunrise
nodding that she could share the seat, a world’s wisdom in his kind eyes
she would listen to his tails of what once was

she looked at his face, scarred and withered
under a woolen cap, drooping skin studded with stubble
weaving his tales of dreams and miseries
woven and sewn with smoke pipes and needles
he poked pinholes through her clouds
she rained down on him a friendship, sharing but a season
they would watch the sunrise, and she, for the first time
welcomed the new day, embraced in the warmth of the sun

his name was Charlie

N.G. 03 05 12

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