There are days when the tragedy of life is too great to bear
When win some, lose some just won’t cut the mustard.
Winsome-wearied, weathered and worn
She hailed a taxi.
Time to get the hell out of this hateful hole
Before it swallowed her whole.
Bright skies before her, burning sun
Radiant beauty of migrant birds in flight-heading for a warmer winter shore.
Leaving was the answer of this she was sure.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
This painting from Artistic Interpretations at imaginary garden with real toads. I think this one reminds me of the place she was leaving.
Share this:
Hues of Hankinson 
strong writing.
sometimes men also need to escape
namaste
JzB
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Winsome-wearied, weathered and worn” beautifully expressed.
LikeLiked by 2 people
many thanks. XX
LikeLike
Yes, there are times we just need to pack and run.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the wordplay in your strong poem… sometimes leaving is the only option.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful wordplay here. And a lovely image to escape to!
LikeLike