Unaware

1 Comments

Unaware

She sits at a table

In the middle of the room,

Not alone but unaware,

Of attention being paid.

 

Is that true?

 

Her interest remains focused

While in conversation

With her daughter,

On a pastry of a snack.

 

Is she aware?

 

More than one glances

Over his coffee,

Over the newspaper or

Computer to admire.

 

She must know?

 

Their gazes linger longer

As the minutes pass away.

Their eyes start to fix

On her beauty.

 

Do they see?

 

A shiny bobble mirrors

The sparkle of dark eyes

That flash about …

Lucky man!

 

He got it.

And he acted.

She knows!

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SavVySam commented on Unaware

10-02-2009

You're right...she knows. It is so fascinating to people watch, imagining the what's and why's. Simple interactions or lack there of. All have great poetic potential to explore, and your keen observations will let you see more. Nice work.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Drowz’s Poems (2)

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Title Comments
Unaware 1
Passage 1

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