Not A Trace

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #444

Words:  spear, design, line, bite, child, mine, trace, green, relish, chase, fine, lace

Not a trace
of fine lace
on this child
of mine. Her
designer’s wear:
baseball cap
and sweats. Have
to chase her down
for a bath.

She stands in line,
mouth watering
for a bite of
a hotdog piled
with alien green
relish, and pickle
spears. Wants to
be a ballplayer.
Not a trace
of fine lace.

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 Not A Trace

  1. oldegg says:

    And why not? We grew up our way and good luck to her for choices she makes too! My own girls were quite adventurous too, growing up.


  2. hank77 says:


    They have their own mind and it reveals an intelligent mind. When they are together in line they seem to be just like any other kid not easily recognized. Great line of thought Sara!



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