Megan, just waking up, breathes newly with a hissing kiss of her inhaler. I breathe in once above the surface of my quilt, not yet asleep, then dive back under to the moistly stale air.
Monthly Archives: February 2014
I see in his eyes the longing, war like tired that drags his eyelids to a snap shut like magnets.
He’s a doggy but so human.
A mournfully sad look fighting the most human need.
He sleeps smiling.
When you look on the smooth flawless faces of a love and realize that this same face was once sprinkled with weed-like pimples that at one time wiped out the beautiful crop of freckles that bloomed once between the eyes. This same heavenly force that sent the freckles’ bane sent with it a secret yearn to maintain the freckles of childhood through somebody else.
Probably the most hated day of winter will come when the green, almost black swords rip through the downy thresh floor. And soon when tumbled thorns rise like crowns of fallen kings, their ashes and dust smeared across muddy roads. When I’ll see the drenched, flattened, shrunken carcasses of pines littering the half-frozen ground.
A dull shmush replacing the crisp break of ice.
And when the wet brown regains his throne.