Lying face down in the grass,
my face is moist.
Dew collects on my hair,
but I am sweating also.
I breathe now, not having
done so for some moments.
The grass smells of summer.
The blades scratch my face.
I open my eyes, but
I am disoriented, but
How long has it been?
I roll over, but cannot
My mind is processing my movements.
My body is dumb.
The fresh air fills my stagnant lungs.
The sun warms my back.
At least I can feel it now.
I melt in the sun and slowly move.
Pain seizes my joints,
but I face upright.
I see my reflection in the
next to Lucy and her diamonds.
- ► 2006 (17)
- two fathers
- I did not appreciate her until I left. I did not k...
- The Candle's Flame
- A shower in the summertime
- The pillar supports its building, withstanding the...
- The Tempest
- The mute sits under a tree drinking her tea as the...
- born to catch butterflies on her tongue
- Running toward the blackened horizon, the sky is n...
- Her white skin, pure, soft, lightens the night. Br...
- Mother's Ashes
- a letter
- Tonight, my mind meandersthrough the pages of my s...
- Lying face down in the grass, my face is moist. De...
- With ebony hair, black skin offsets tight, dark cu...
- Laurel, MT
- watching my mother in the morning
- For Claire
- The sun will rise over an array of houses, spread...
- If I look closely, with my head pressed to the ...
- The softness of every summer night, for the rest ...
- late one night
- Rain begins to fall. I hold her in my arms. The...
- C'est la vie
- ▼ February (29)