Eliza Poem by Madelyn Shyba
Eliza
The cold frame broke her fall.
Shattered it, quite literally.
Glass and blood and bits of screen from the second floor window she had gone through
Surrounding her broken head, her cherubic hair
Miraculously unsullied and framing her face,
Eyes still open,
Eyes still blue,
The cries of her mother
Breaking the silent afternoon.
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4/24/2024 1:47:52 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is gud...but i think it shud continue. Nice work so far...kudos you can read my poem...Little Cherry Gold...you might like it...