time. simply. stopped.
under her wide
black & white umbrella
held tight in one
still dry hand
she glances back
at an emptying theater
an Annie Playbill
tucked tight to
a hollow space
that still holds hope
in her nostalgic heart
wanting for an
old moment
to borrow a
song of tomorrow
wishing for that
proverbial little
blue & white box
& the meaning of
what a locket holds
slick with storm
rain washes over her
almost frozen feet
& then as if by magic
Times Square jolts forward
like a neon lightning bolt
& suddenly she’s
growing back
into her heels
red ribbons drop
as she shakes
her soaked curls
a part of her knew better
than to wish on a neon star
the wind tugs at her umbrella
& she knows she needs both hands
So – with an aging smile
she lets go
& pages flutter
through a sea
of bright lights
like a midnight butterfly
there is no easy street
Gretchen Leary 2013
Gretchen Leary (McIntire) 
“& suddenly she’s
growing back
into her heels”
Outstanding!
That moment of choosing to let go of the Playbill… I’ve been there. Nice metaphor for becoming an adult, and the choice of “growing back into her heels” rather than dwelling in childhood is potent. Well done, Gretchen! (I’ve been moving and just had a tooth extracted, so I’m a little behind….) Love, Amy
Thank-you Amy! I saw Annie the same night I saw my father again for only the second time in my life in NYC. I thought it would make me cry. That little girl in me may always dream of a Daddy Warbucks and may always want that locket but another part is starting to appreciate that maybe its best the way it is. If I didn’t have a void – what would I write about? 🙂
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