THE ACCUSER
By YaseminB
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THE ACCUSER
Today, a white plume rises.
A flock of storks,
embarks on a journey of a pilgrimage
to an Arabian desert.
The beauty is unbounded
Yet terror in her heart.
A line of men:
Close shaven, bearded
Lean bodied, obese!
“Which one?” Asks the policewoman!
Tearful is the young woman.
“It was him,” She points out to
A lean bodied young man
"Who stole my purse.”
Then her memory flash as lighting
Visits her again!
“I think I left my purse at my granddaughter's place!”
Tears streams down the old woman's crimson face.
“Sorry to have wasted your time.”
The young woman holds her hand
Kindly
A gentle squeeze, "my father has demantia
I understand!' She says.
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Comments
A dreadful thing, Yasemin.
A dreadful thing, Yasemin. Terrible.
Our success at living so long.
I like how you set the scene with the smoke / storks. I don't know if it's related with the flight of memory / faculties, but it's got me standing here thinking it might. I really enjoy this style.
Parson Thru
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A sad narrative that captures
A sad narrative that captures the moment.
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