She watched the car drive away
kicking dust and gravel back
into her eyes and her skin,
her bare arms no match for limestone gravel.
She winced, but couldn't deflect--
just stood in the road
watching the cloud of dust
following the old, green Buick
The grumbling sounds of the engine finallly
dissipating into the wind
and drown out by the singing of
little brown birds.
(This poem is in response to a promt from readwritepoem.org )