Anna (Pieces Of You) Poem by Jean Renwick

There’s a girl
sitting,
surrounded by the golden glow of sunset.
Contemplation.
Feet together in patent leather
and frilly socks.
One arm across tightly held knees
as if to say – “I don’t want you near me”.
The other arm a sharp angle,
pointed chin in tiny hand.
The lips pressed, clearly defined like an artist’s outline;
in ten years they’ll be most kissable.
She could be a statue, her shadow lengthening
then drawing into herself.
Eyelids slowly blink over large pools of liquid chocolate
that share both innocence and sorrow.

There’s a woman
sitting,
surrounded by the flickering fury of a storm.
Disenchantment.
Feet apart in worker’s boots
and trouser legs.
Two arms leaning, crossed on sturdy knees
as if to say – “Just stay away from me”.
The body a sharp angle,
defiant chin jutting against wild rain.
The lips pressed, clearly defined by careful lipstick outline;
a select few believe them most kissable.
She appears still, but her body is barely restrained,
drawing movement into herself.
Eyelids erratically blink over large pools of liquid chocolate
that share both anger and sorrow.

There’s a lady
sitting,
surrounded by the wandering wind off the sea.
Reminiscence.
Feet crossed in floral slippers
and support hose.
Both hands folded resting on swollen knees
as if to say – “I’ve made many leave me”.
Shoulder blades a sharp angle,
tired chin indicative of a tired soul.
The lips pressed, clearly defined against the wrinkled outline;
despite her age, they’re still most kissable.
She could be asleep, but the mind is active,
drawing thoughts into herself.
Eyelids rarely blink over large pools of liquid chocolate
that share both acceptance and sorrow.