Originally ‘Freebird’ | November 2024
She awoke and reached out for the morning embrace;
her brow bone grew wrinkled, not spotting his face.
The sheets were smoothed neatly,
coffee brewed strong, just black.
He put the pack upon his shoulders
to begin a journey.
He’d never be back.
Enamored by potential,
and driven by grief.
On the dirt road with beetles -
creamed corn and beef.
The ground barely shook,
as he climbed up hillside.
It’d rain, sleet and thunder -
He maintained his stride.
Until she crossed his path,
destination less clear,
and you could bet all your fortune
he stayed for a year.
She taught him of tea tree,
the joy in a tithe,
and he grew a new glisten in his once down turned eyes.
On the wrong side
of a small, disheveled bed;
what was actually the right,
he grew again fearful,
and left in the night.
She awoke and reached out for the morning embrace;
her brow bone grew wrinkled, not spotting his face.
The sheets were smoothed neatly,
coffee brewed just the same,
but she started using creamer
and choked on his name.
alterations aren’t just for my jeans