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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2018-09-07 22:40:45

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    The hatless woman stands full in the sun.
    Summer is nowhere if not all around us.

    A ten minute hayride, and I’ll be turning
    the broad-side of a burgundy barn. Still,

    the woman stands full-hatless in the sun.
    The bags in our hands crinkle like wings

    of cicadas. The ones with tiny lightining
    strikes marring the map of them—the way

    memory mars me until I am nothing
    more than eclipsed sunlight bleeding

    over the dark earth. The hatless lady
    says we are not to pick any of the apples

    from the ground. Our jittery bags are
    not to be filled with the waste-fruit.

    If we can't have them then neither can you,
    she says nodding. We are to let them alone,

    to lie there until even their insides waver,
    become that tinge of vinegar painting the air

    and all but disappear to feed the dried-blood
    colored dust that wriggles with life beneath them

    ...Created 2018-09-07 22:39:34

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    The hatless woman stands full
    in the sun. Summer is nowhere
    if not all around us.

    A ten minute hayride, and I’ll be turning
    the broad-side of a burgundy barn. Still
    the woman stands full-hatless in the sun.

    The bags in our hands crinkle
    like the wings of cicadas. The ones
    with tiny lightining strikes marring

    the map of them the way
    memory mars me until I’m nothing
    more than mottled sunlight

    bleaching the dark floor. The hatless
    lady says we are not to pick the apples
    from the ground. Our jittery bags

    are not to be filled with the waste-fruit.
    If we can't have them then neither can you
    We are to let them alone, to lie there

    until even their insides waver
    to scent the air and all but      disappear
    to feed the dried-blood could dust

    beneath them

    ...Created 2018-09-07 22:32:18

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

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    January 10 07
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