The first and last stanzas of “ghost lady”:
yesterday
she was a rickshaw
dragged through the city
her over-burdened wheels splayed
pebbled street-cracked spokes
tomorrow
she’ll stare as people pose
tomorrow
she’ll be stoned
tomorrow
her sisters will make her a statue
where rickshaws pass
© 29 November 2019
Cindy B. Stevens
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Photo credit: dean-brierley-ekVUITJAqP0-unsplash
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