never had brothers,

just a mother

who smothered

youthful ambitions,

and a sister

from another mister

who embraced tradition

no wild stallion could compare

to that grey-eyed girl

twirling on the garden bridge


never had a reason

to loathe a season,

or being born


til now

girl of snow

and starfire,

let the grip go,

loose the barbed wire

no hurricane can touch

a spectral sigh, ย  ย  ย  ย  feels too much

no serenity in a feather-light finger brush

disguised as an innocent touch

                hates to blush


Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay

Published by Jennifer Patino


13 thoughts on “Pauline

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