Fall 2021
Finding Ashley Hocking Before the atoms shift, my foot lands in the grasses A molecule of being That travels roads and pounces On sinking momentary blips And embellished cottage houses My body flows through the present And passes out on strangers’ couches The sky a dusky blue With moonlight in the brambles Curled blackberry flowers in heavy air With dust blown up from grit and gravel Bird songs and pleasant sights And yet I power past it: The questions, the memories, the challenges, But most of all the masses Of moments past and future yearnings That wrap my heart inside a makeshift casket Of lies that I have never lived And will never find satisfaction And so I breathe the inescapable air That reeks of rot and sweet disaster And exhale filtered release that begs from my next breath To be Of peace and love and laughter-Instead of what would rather Swaddle my mind in weeds, Gently bury my heart down under, And whisper the myth that after all There is no happily ever after.
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