Written for the Mag #251


Sale at Pink?  She gazes
at front window. No pink
clothes are displayed.
Maybe they will have
an appropriate holiday
gift for Aunt Martha,
even if it is not pink.
Then she realizes
where she is, hesitates.
Madison Avenue–unlikely.
She decides to watch
ice skaters instead,
and to marvel at the tree.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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4 Responses to Pink

  1. kaykuala h says:

    Pink may not be really pinky! Sometimes one wonders how they had chosen their names. It may turn out to be a shove-off in fact! Great thoughts Sara!



  2. Sandra says:

    that happens…yes!


  3. Myrna Zach says:

    poor Aunt Martha

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ha! 40% on Madison Ave is still too much!

    Happy New Year!

    Liked by 1 person

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