In Daily Musings, Excerpts of Prose, Uncategorized on October 8, 2009 at 1:29 AM

Raindrops cascading down her face

Several years later we have found her

She had tilted her face to the sky

The rain mixing with tears

Gravity pulling them towards her heart

Making the skin shine

Glistening beneath this August storm

The lightening seems to ignite the entire sky

In intervals

An electric symphony of flashing notes

In singles, doubles, triplets and more

Cross-winds making the trees bend and move

She remembers things she had forgotten

Life seems to sway and bow at the will of the wind

Weeks before she boarded a plane

And let the sun chase her from the coast

So the sunset lasted hours instead of minutes

While most stared at screens or books or slept

She pressed her face to window

Watching the landscape change

The light grow into shadows

The clouds telling her secrets

As her finger traced their outlines on the window

It hurts to grow up

She felt her loved ones almost on her fingertip

Remembering her brother, now halfway across the world

Thinking he might be captured in the light

As it chased her from the west to the east coast

When we meet her now, she has stretched her arms wide

Inviting the rain to pour from heaven

Caress her skin and envelope her soul

Drifting down her body, soaking her clothing

Revealing what lay hidden beneath a thin cotton dress


Once we found poetry on these pages

brushed with nothing more

than the usual scattering of words

phrases and joculand trumpings of wit

Now it seems we are ephemeral poets

ghosts of ourselves who do not know we are dead

lost in the Hundred Acre Wood

going in the same circle over and over again

arguing the relevance to ourselves but not too loud

the fallen rhetoric of politics

i am tired of hearing the same thing repeated

so here i am in purgatory

left with nothing but the smell of droppings

droppings of defunct poetics

Copyright 2008 by Kimberly Cox

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