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A Woman on a Bench Downtown (Free verse) by baughworm
Thin lips, the color of a broken heart, A single tear slowed at the tip of her nose, Debating the next step Before descending towards her crème colored shoes. I passed, pretending to defend my hair from The hot wind Whipping from around the large gray building. I lit a cigarette and turned the corner.

Down the ladder: INTELLIGENCIA

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Arithmetic Mean: 8.0
Weighted score: 5.806824
Overall Rank: 1652
Posted: May 18, 2003 9:56 PM PDT; Last modified: May 18, 2003 9:56 PM PDT
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