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…old souls…

today i melted

Sunday afternoon
fingers still greasy
from lunch. house
flies eyeballing the
peach cobbler stain
on my shirt. green
succumbs to
yellow succumbs to
orange, to red, to
brown. a Rainbow
of earth tones and
life becomes sepia
snapshots in dusty
drawers.
“Who is that one??”
“Oh, I think it’s your aunt dear.”

just let that thought
swish away like
the apricot days
of Summer honey.

and it just so happened
in a moment much like
this, that i was melted
into the wrought iron
bench beneath me, and
leaves tickled the sky
with their spiny fingers
and old cloud cobwebs
drifted aimlessly into
branches, painting the
perfect scene. to retire
this same old notion of
old souls. old souls. old. souls.

the trees groan in the wind
the wind, a skinless hand, lightly
stroking her hair until sleep
finds her, at last.

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7 thoughts on “…old souls…

  1. thanks ML and SL. its not where i want it to be. i nearly tossed this one in the drafts folder.

    the ending isn’t saying what i want it to say….
    and where i get stuck is the word “her” being repeated.
    i don’t know. repeating words in just weak to me.

    the trees groan in the wind
    the wind, a skinless hand, lightly
    stroking her hair until sleep
    finds her, at last.

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