The Gesture


The Gesture


Meek with surprise and somewhat nunnish,

She takes the old man's flower

As in his hazel eyes

He makes a wish.


She slips it through her button-hole

And smiles,

Thanks him with a nodded head,

And silently is touched.


This afternoon she walks away,

His gaze upon her ankles.

Thinking of the freesia scent,

She sings.



Click below for: