A Poem from Janet Cannon's  Poetry Room at IsleWrite.com

street walker

tessie walks the video taped
route of main street everywhere
she walks truncated with the
obsolescence of her prime

her hips of sweet roll grace
sway from east to west
with an historic recollection
of sweet indulgences lingering

past their time painted desert
face faded with age like gouache
on stretched loose canvas
blanched by the sun faded face

maps her poignant pain of lost
lovers lividly her flaming red
headed hot tipped locks curl with
the last night's protest hanging

on her gypsy-ed shoulders limply
recalling the resilience of youth
full aspirations her rhythmic
moving feet are as constant as

a yellow blinking street light
her slow-footed jaunt is as
familiar as a dirt road meandering
endlessly and her piece of the

people's picture puzzle here or
there wherever that is one piece
among many of the whole picture
patch quilted with our human fabric


Poem by  Janet Cannon