A Pale Scrawl
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Glowing fiercely

10/20/2016

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Picture
There are wildflower seeds
Tangled in my midnight blue hair
From my position at the bottom of a natural bowl
I can hear the wind breathe as
Waves through the trees
The sun is receding from me
Over the opposite side of the hill
Shining as an unreal spotlight
On a maple glowing fiercely despite the chill
I can't smell woodsmoke yet
The homes surrounding me
Stubborn to let summer end
But nobody is so proud as to grill their dinner, either


My shadow is impossibly long
Stretching at an angle from my feet
I feel small next to it
I expect to go inside and smell something cooking
To take off my shoes
And see my mother in the kitchen
"You smell like outside" she would say
Planting warm lips on my cool forehead
Cheeks pink against a pale face
No tan to fade


She is not here
Nobody is but a clutter of shoes
Around a junk-mail strewn dining table
A pair of cats chirping for an early meal
I would speak to them
But my voice is a croak
No amount of throat clearing will remedy
Because I have been sick
Run too far for too long on too little
With no one to tell me to slow down


I am not lonely
I am simply suffused with
The tang of melancholy on my tongue
My favorite season spent alone
For the first time in my life
The sweetness of autonomy mingling there
It tastes like possibility


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