#westvirginia
Pale legs sprawl out;
untangling and stretching,
as I absorb the
Montana air.
Isolated, we sit,
under the big
sky.
Silent.
White clouds float
through a sea of
orange.
The same shade of
orange as those sugary
push-up's my father would
shove down my
throat.
Gas station sweets
to make me
me forgive
him.
I shake the feeling
of comparisons—
they never did me
any good.
Instead, I lie down
and allow you
to touch my
tense body.
Softly, you
reach over, muffling
words of beauty and
astonishment.
I do not flinch.
I flash a smile
and focus on
Montana.
The mountains in
West Virginia
rolled; they flowed,
so graciously
together.
There was never a
road that was not
winding.
I've never
seen a rugged
mountain.
Snow-capped and
radiant.
Not until Montana.
Until this moment,
I, too, have
tried to
flow.
Living the same ways,
in which I experienced,
Mother Nature.
Going through the
motions—
with no purpose.
No passion.
The fear of becoming
an abrasive,
overbearing woman
urged me to
flow.
To slide through
life, barely
noticed.
Never climbing
for more,
to discover the
true beauty in
becoming
a bit
rocky.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
the river winding down below
the rushing sounds of rapids flow
while high above the trees I stand
to breathe the wonders of this land
vast pines outstretching toward the sky
give shelter to the fowl that fly
the covered rocks and earth that stay
stuck forever in their place
for years on end this place has been
untouched by man, untouched by sin
to some it may seem boring, though
to be in such a place alone
hidden in hills, surrounded by stone
but, for me,
it's coming home
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Sweat cools
on the tops of our shoulders.
The sun drops
and the beat follows.
A moment of blackness first,
followed by
a rock candy colored infinity.
It dances, without apology
and blankets me in light.
In the spaces between
spilled beer and green smoke,
time is a foreign language
that no one cares to learn.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:08 AM UTC
mother earth,
we have stolen so much from you- too much.
we have taken your trees, your mountain tops,
your moss covered rocks, your rivers and streams.
i know the tears you shed- i shed them too (for my home),
i know how desperate you are to repair- to rebuild,
and i wish that i could lay my hands upon you.
i wish that i could heal you all by myself.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC