Little Irene

by: Bekah Turney

Her eyes welled up with tears

And cried along-

A tune to Phoenix’ song

Of ripping away the past.

That’s what she knows

Through all her years.

Sweetness in her gaze

Beyond her age, could see

Of love’s bitter departure,

That rang familiar ripples on her

Supple cheeks.

Knowledge swarming through her veins

Of endings,

Waiting for her vague recall

Of sun to shine

And prevail

Against the constant rain.

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