Dolly After Dark

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Mon, 17 Oct 2011
  • 990 reads
6 comments
 

Whistling down the wind;
streets deserted – save
for them ‘crazies’.

Flying high – that’s
where she is; courtesy
of scotch-laced gin, and
plenty more besides.

Whistles like a bird,
she does; her sweet daddy –
he taught her...Makes
her smile – remembering.

Whistles for him,
and for the tumbledown
shack of a man
left town
before she did.

Pretty soon,
the moon’ll rise –
illuminate
them rich-pickings
in the gutter.

Don’t shine too bright
though...show up
that dirty-pretty gown;

pity she sure ain’t
no Cinderella
and life –
no frigging ball.

Takes a swig
from a hip-flask
filled to brimming
with other folk’s dreams...
She can whistle
down the wind for hers

only thinking
of the times
when linen
was sun-dried,
and when neon
lit up the sky.

Certificate 12
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Biography

Comments

Submitted by Kahdai on
beaUtiful Tina :)

"I will make sense with a few reads \^^/ "

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Thanks, Kahdai;-)

 

Submitted by Highhat on
I am wondering whether the alcohol hasn't obliterated her memory! Sorry I guess it hasn't! It is a sort of illness - poor woman. nice one Tina ;)Pia

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Thanks for reading, Pia Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi Tina, I watched a documentary on BBC4 about people on the streets, there was this one lady, who was a lesbian and by day she sat in the park with the other drinkers and by night she found different various places to sleep, always drowned in the bottle of whatever it was she was drinking that day. The lady in your story kind of reminded me of her, she smiled the whole time she was being interviewed, but said if she didn't smile, she would never stop crying and that she said, she would never do. So she just carried on laughing through the whole interview. I just thought that this poem was almost like watching her. I suppose in a way, we come into this world with nothing and even though we are surrounded by the things we love, we will go out with nothing. A sad but true to life poem. Thankyou for sharing. Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Thank you, so very much, Jenny for your more than informed words. What truth you speak. In a way, that lady you saw on BBC4, was one and the same. 'I suppose in a way, we come into this world with nothing and even though we are surrounded by the things we love, we will go out with nothing.' Memorable words, indeed, Jenny;-) Tina