There is
something
falling.
There, see?
High in the sky but also
where it fell years before
already under black dirt,
the prints of feet
of animals and trees.
The world was different when she was born
but I walk here too,
the soles of my feet pitch with soil
and scrapes,
the trees bearing witness as I climb.
I thought I knew how high
before she fell to earth,
but when I saw her spine
split, broken,
she didn’t make a sound through the air as she fell
or landed
and now, do I jump?
She is waiting
in the next world below
but how
is anyone ever ready?
Dec 10
Everything in life is only lived for the fermata at the end.
When its over, no one knows what to say. They hold their breath and wait for the orchestra to stand.
I don’t remember how I felt when my mother didn’t come home. I don’t feel anything now, not knowing what happened to her.
I’m still waiting for someone to get up and start clapping.
Dec 10
Once upon a time, a lonely man plucked a yellow girl from her home, put her in a jar, and kept her.
She paced the circular base, one foot in front of the other, step step.
She looked heavenward to meet his eyes, tapped on the glass. He couldn’t hear the echo like she could.
He dropped his wishes in beside her. Pretty, shining celestial bodies. They kept her awake at night.
Step, step, while he was away. Tap tap.
She curled her spine to the glass, stretched her fingers to the other side. She couldn’t reach, and instead, slept.
Dec 10
