Seeing Red – a poem

I posted this poem on the 12 Poems in 12 Months website this week. The theme for this month was ‘Red’. Thanks to my online colleagues from the group for their comments. This is the amended version. And it’s partly based on a true story…


(Image by Pixabay)

I caught a flash of red

from the kitchen window.

My hands were in the sink

washing lettuce.

His hands were on someone’s body

pulling her down.

A flash of red,

a garment…

hastily discarded.

They left the blind up.

Had they not seen me?

It was late afternoon.

I stood still, barely breathing.

My hands too, still like the water.

The air cool around me,

the street holding its’ breath.

Then heard him whistling.

A song I didn’t recognise.

And her heels, clickety-clack on the concrete drive.

She put on red lipstick

before they climbed into a car.

It had darkened windows

and a driver I didn’t know.

Where were they going?

I never found out.

Because he didn’t come back.

So I took in his mail

and looked after his cat.

Until further notice.

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