The Echoes by Nicole Barth [8/12/11]

She’s the kind of girl who will step outside to be alone.


Lost in her daydreams,
her olive oil eyes skim over the sea of concrete
as her wandering heart beat keeps time to the click-clack of
impatient taxi cabs lunging over speed bumps.


Yesterday’s rain water is now  a looking glass
as the girl made of lilac lullabies is overtaken
by the scent of shaved grass that brushes past her lungs.


A rusted pocket watch hangs from her neck.
Within it resides a watercolor sky and a fistful of pennies she has yet to discover.


And all the little screws that have struggled to keep
her restless hands from twitching are coming undone as
she glues herself to a park bench.


Flustered fingers leaf through a never ending stream of
dog-eared portraits,
poorly hidden smirks
and imagined lyrics before finding
a blank page.


The watch’s hands have frozen.
Trembling, she tilts the page and scrawls a confession.
Underlined twice: your smile.