Treasure Island

Vera Sidhwa


I wanted that man,
To look at me
But he kept reading his romantic book.

He seemed to shun all around him,
The book was the interest he took,
As far as I could see,
It was an oddity.

Because I was used to not,
Being just ignored,
I nudged him to say hi.

He nodded so fast.
He turned the other way.

I got up and left,
He was ruggedly gorgeous.

But completely unheedful,
Of what life was made of.
His handsome face was,
Like something I never dreamt of.

Submitted: Friday, January 18, 2013
Edited: Thursday, June 20, 2013

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Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
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Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
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