08-19-2014, 06:02 AM
Bruised pears lay strewn across the dirt,
an old man on a stroll coughs like a violent siren behind me.
Atop a hill stands a wiggling mirage –
a family of four in Sunday clothes talking about
aunt something’s honey ham last weekend somewhere.
Sunlight chokes on a sudden wind,
leafy patches of shadow take turns on my face,
the son’s brown eyes are the old man’s thick glasses.
All the sideline animals hum like an electric orchestra;
unplanned unison in the fabric of everything.
The walking senior sparks a skinny cigarette
and admires the same burgundy dahlias
I thought resembled fresh blood on a green blanket.
He smiles at me like a charming statue,
frozen for those seconds between two tally marks.
Helplessly gazing at it all, I imagine one body.
The creases in my palm tell an unfamiliar tale,
the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers going about their day.
an old man on a stroll coughs like a violent siren behind me.
Atop a hill stands a wiggling mirage –
a family of four in Sunday clothes talking about
aunt something’s honey ham last weekend somewhere.
Sunlight chokes on a sudden wind,
leafy patches of shadow take turns on my face,
the son’s brown eyes are the old man’s thick glasses.
All the sideline animals hum like an electric orchestra;
unplanned unison in the fabric of everything.
The walking senior sparks a skinny cigarette
and admires the same burgundy dahlias
I thought resembled fresh blood on a green blanket.
He smiles at me like a charming statue,
frozen for those seconds between two tally marks.
Helplessly gazing at it all, I imagine one body.
The creases in my palm tell an unfamiliar tale,
the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers going about their day.