October 24, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

GK Sholanke



Opal Ingram






I sat with my back on the worn up bench

My shoes were covered in dust, my hair was

Tuck under my hat.


The huge tree stood behind the bench

Beneath the sun, in my heart I felt

Worn and torn.


My heart felt clenched.

Where did my life go?


My view, I see the torn up sidewalks

With it broken up curbs, an empty can rolls my way.

I kick it to the curb I reach in my purse and grab a



I stare at It.

And look!


I threw the mirror on the dirty curb, it did not even crack

Another can rolls down my way.

I felt empty like the can.


I kick it high like a lion heart

I held my head high

No shame in my game.


The can rolls down the gutter where it belongs.




I sat with a lion heart.

As strong as I could be.


With a quiet soul.


The moon was the light

The air felt cool over my shoulder.

I held my head high.


No shame in my game.










The Essence Of A Butterfly



Her thoughts fine and mellow like the seasons.

Her song sings a melody of bloom.

Like a season open with array

She sits with a friendly smile.

The essence of a butterfly

Fine feathers on a bird

Where feathers fly?


In a hand

A bird is worth gold.

The essence of a



Where beauty lies between her wings.











Opal Ingram - Tuck Magazine

Opal Ingram

Opal Ingram is a Poet/ Author from the Lower East Side NYC . She currently Resides In Troy, NY. Her Passion For Writing began in her childhood.

Opal Ingram also has a Facebook Poetry group, Opal Expressions Poetry aka- Poetress Mystic.


  1. r soos October 25, at 04:02

    That perfect moment of perception: "And look! I threw the mirror on the dirty curb, it did not even crack"


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