Like A Copper Coin Poem by Alistair Graham

A woman stood in her denim skirt
at the traffic lights, waiting to cross

Like a young bird, she nodded up to the lights
down to the push-button, up to the lights;
her pretty face, waiting its turn

She marched towards the green man,
her left arm, like an oar in a boat race,
swishing by her side

The quick red car jumped the lights,
smashed into her long legs in tights,
flipped her body and her world
like a copper coin