Seasonal Affect

by ...

Allie Duff

 

Stale purple hydrangeas swim
in winter-grey thoughts; cling
to faded light, bruised necks
strain toward bright spots (dancing auras
always warn of future pain), how simple

…………..to lose summer; it’s much worse
letting go (I moan in my sleep
at a dream of you), shivering
through fall, at the precipice of being
plucked by rough hands, and instead
passed by, (laughing, always leaving),

I think of bringing you a leaf,
yellow birch: I press it between pages
and carry you with me, past
nettles that prick naked legs
and highways and early mornings,

before leaving you somewhere between
Winterhouse Brook and Trout River,
while I wait for winter to settle
into petals that fade
at the touch of early snow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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