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She’s a little Punk, a little Roll
A little bruised, a little torn
She’s a storm weathered pirate
A veteran wartime pilot
A well traveled suitcase
Her skin painted
A scar here, a scar there
Not ruined, but better for the wear

Sometimes restless
A gusty wind
A waterfall
A birdsong
The curious cat
The hunter, explorer
The distant jazz heard at night

Sometimes cozy
A safe place
A silent smile
A held hand
The fireplace crackle
The couch, the blanket
The window blurred with raindrop patter

And when she’s bluesy
Aching with melancholy
She breathes her heart out
Willingly, offered bravely
Laid bare on my doorstep
Her hand on my cheek
Her eyes on mine
Welcoming me to do the same

She’s stormy sunshine
A bullshit detector
She’s bacon for my eggs
And comes with her own kickstand
She’s my counterweight
My class clown
My buddy
My lover

Photo credit: elitatt/Flickr
{ 2 comments… add one }
  • Judy Mac Ellis March 16, 2015, 7:42 am

    I love the fact that you are writing, and expressing yourself. I happen to think that you are very special . And your stories matter, because You lived them, and there Are many others who relate to them. Now!!! Is the time to create what YOU really want to be and experience. Your thoughts and beliefs will create YOUR FUTURE.

  • Cydney March 29, 2015, 11:12 pm

    Oh Cab …I can only hope this person ? in this lovely poem is someone special in your life.. I’m listening to 1960s music.. Your message reminds me of a heartfelt song from that era .. However much deeper and more heartfelt with your sensitivity .. Thanks so much for sharing!

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