Adriana.K.Maxwell
The field beckons, actual plants not manicured grass to look like a plastic Barbie lawn, flowers tangled around each other, the froth of Queen Anne's Lace mixed with the melting suns of Black-Eyed Susans.
The fog softens the edges of the morning, rising among geese calls, over crisp, sharp, frosted grass, smoke breath as I scrape the frost off the windshield.
Lantern bright wink in dark night, yellow ripples in the pond
Blue sky, finally, growing darker towards the sun, wondering what it would be like to be tall enough to swish the blue through my fingers, to gather stars like a child plucking lucky coins out of the mall fountain
Dream soft things, a curled up bear under warm earth and heavy snow, the world above you stilled and quiet, grey sky, bare branches
Mend the relationship with careful stitches, still not matching, still scar lines like apologies still sometimes hitting raw, but working again
Carrot-top, little orphan girl, waiting in the wedding veil lace of cherry trees, finally chosen, awkward dreamer of Idlewild, growing, finding her tribe of Joseph, making Matthew smile, puffed sleeves and run-on sentences, growing up, not famous, but making her village beautiful, finding happiness with her childhood enemy, children playing in Rainbow Valley, and watching the moonrise in silence that is comforting not tight
Open the door, it's scary sometimes, venturing out into the world, checking makeup checking for keys, is my iPad charged? I need something to keep my hands busy. I need to be able to draw, to escape to paper if the world gets too busy.
Found items are special, speckled rocks sagging in toddler's jeans, blue-shell after life explodes out of it.
Spark, flying out into dark night, to fade like a star, or start a forest fire. Just a little bit of light, potential broken off from power.
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