Tag: writing

To remind myself of spring

Out of the world feeling like

It is made of a single room

The lights inside and out

Blurred in the growing fog

And the cold reaching out

Hollow roots burrowing into me

There is

A bouquet of wilted amaryllis

Petals I give to myself while

A new bloom emerges from the

Bulb wrapped in wax wrapped in

Pollen coating the windowsill

And with enough homemade rain

Spread across the weeks

Leaves will keep sprouting

Wrapping round the ceramic faces

That cradle their earth

And reaching for glass-guarded sunlight

That always comes back

Daija just died yesterday

Danielle can’t see her face in all the paint

My mother and I don’t know what to say

Each day it’s harder to wake 

While Tabs, papers, and links fill my desk

The sun is the only one who fills me in the warring

Generations of expectations and no money to shop

With your tasks there is no time for mourning

All I want is to water my plants now

When scrolling I know I would rather my pain

In all that I’ve heard I just don’t know how

To live knowing some are worth just a word       

The sky turns grey but there is no change

Answers may come with age

I shed my many skins to get to me

The sky is made of crows returning to warmth

The horizon like rainbow sherbet back home

Metal and glass holding puzzles of bone

Jutting across the landscape like mountains

I bounce along to the static singing in my ears

Music is deep water, and I’d like to sink beneath the waves

Cheers and laughter and dancing rushing around you

Rockets carve twin-tailed clouds across the atmosphere

Lamplight tells you the stars will be here soon

And the cold will sit alongside you

As the sun sinks behind the earth