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Alms

For there she was.

Upright, bliss.

Blooming petal,

do its wish.

What a day,

sounds, sounds

and people,

she says.

Dalloway, her petals,

the ones she picked,

herself.

She breathes

air like silk.

Details, dresses,

Precious petal,

does not know.

And the patient,

the open palms,

wait for prayers–

prayers, perhaps.

What a day.

*Mrs. Dalloway said,

she would pick the flowers

herself.*

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Written by

littlebrush

Published: Jan 12, 2016
LinesWords: 2463

Notes: (First and last line taken from Mrs. Dalloway).
Tags: #poverty #mrsdalloway

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