The Griever’s Thoughts

By Paige Indritz

Her words were full of beads and trinkets, moving in the wind the way the spiders would fly their kites and wrap you up. And I would feel her words like dry sandstone air creeping up upon my shoulder. And all the while I sat and wondered what is the good of the sky if we cannot one day be the stars that danced around it or so I mean if she cannot. I tasted the bitterness of her wailing at night when I droned out the noise ringing through the walls by singing myself to the wind. The wildflowers of Sedona compared nothing to my dreams where she was flying away finally free quietly as a tree falling to the ground and her feet would rattle the nails of the house we so carefully walked in together. She was so careful and quiet, never a heavy step to be heard.

The beach was an extraordinary place to see the children running around. If they ran enough no one would get picked away.

Oh not by a bird my friend but I could smell the way fear lurked along the shore. the musical wisps of wind hair and she inhaled every drop The the effervescence in her popping through her ear

I picked her up. But she slid out and burrowed neath the waves, deep beneath our rickety house.

Paige after page I wrote her But

It’s not difficult to hear combing through her of sun she could find. her mind never stopped “Oh I need some ink!” burrowed herself deep behouse. story. Paige after page. my pen wept and shrieked just like our forgotten little family, oh how memorable! Oh!

I wonder when the moon will close.