Red Gloves Poem by Ravi Ghayal

The ground rumbled as I saw those red gloves.
I was much safer than she was.
I fled to a distant past and entered her eyes,
But never experienced it like she had realized.
I am safe as she tumbles and flees,
And loses everything from her head to her knees.
The screen looks away in horror at a new sight
my wonder of the woman is left without guidance of light.
My world is not with hers,
Because sometimes the same nests are made by different birds.
As I start to wonder where she had gone,
My eyes saw the outside with a greater light.
By the bend of the street to which my eyeswandered through the rough,
Laid under the rubble, I discovered the hue of a red glove.