60 x 20

in this meadow,

soft, flaxen, knee-high comfort. 

reeds, rattling,

tickling my toes.

the edges of my ears,

shiver with pleasure. 

swinging, floating,

on a ribbon peeled branch. 

a lavender lake,

coated in burnt marmalade sun. 

i look deep into the sky,

& wince one last time. 

my temples grey. 

i don’t really sleep the way i used to. 

i think of buying a handsome boat,

lacquered in honey wood,

blue and bright white. 

i will grow a garden one day. 

i promise, i will. 

tend to vegetables,

dahlias you would think to eat.

recover from the world. 

walk over crests,

dogs in my wake.

it is the most wonderful thing,

being alive,

arms envelope me,

& night consumes my home.


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