I picked her up at a truck stop

on the outskirts of a dusty town,

tears shone sadly on the purple petals

of the pansies on her cheek;

slid slowly to her throat, watering

her necklace, a string of scarlet roses.

She said he gave her flowers every day.


©Cindy Taylor 2008

Related post:




12 thoughts on “A BOUQUET OF BRUISES

  1. Hi Cin…decided to blog on my wordpress as well (not leaving LD though so will blog simaltaneously).

    Now I can pop to you and to Priscilla (Say What?! on LD).

    Jen 😉

  2. Man, I have so missed your blog – I’m glad I got hold of you this morning to get info re Word Press from you. I wanted to blog as Say What, but the username was already taken. So, new blog, new name, new things ahead.

    Madmom is also considering a move, so who knows, maybe we’ll all end up here.

    Now, on your post – as always, superb writing. This piece is so powerfully poignant.

  3. Beautiful poem.

    I ran a domestic violence program in NJ for a few years ~ the cycle of abuse always ends (and begins) with “flowers” and apologies.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s