She always played an open hand, <br />wide eyed, innocent <br />while all around held close <br />their trump cards <br />waiting for a kill. <br /> <br />That’s why when he returned, <br />all sins fully exposed <br />he didn’t see the steely glint of eyes. <br />The sword of wrath struck <br />for the sisterhood……. <br /> <br />and as he fell, bleeding, reeling, <br />he muttered something about <br />forgiveness, pleading <br />and couldn’t understand <br />her laughter at his weeping.<br /><br />Ruth Walters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-open-hand-2/
