Poor Woman Poem by Taylor Jones

poor woman
with her bones so cold
her skin is old and haggard
she carries sticks and twigs
wrapped up in moldy socks
and tissue paper
and she pulled off the caper
last night
but not tonight
tonight
she will not get away.
she wears a leather jacket
all muddled and sly
with no look of recognition in her weathered eyes
what's the prize
what's the cost to her?
one million sheckles
and her child's life
hanging in the rafters breeze