Adriana.K.Maxwell
Wander around the city, I've got 20 minutes to spend, looking for international grocery stores and old antique shops, all the places I've driven by and wondered about but was too busy to drop in
The wall sits, crumbled, almost forgotten. The chipmunks have a hole behind some broken mortar. Crows sometimes tuck their peanuts here. The bull is gone.
Note: I'm going away. There's food in the fridge. I need a break from the laundry, the stack of dishes, the everything always. I am going to where no one calls my name, to lay on the grass and do nothing until I feel like someone again. I don't know when I'll be back.
Hum, song of the bees and the busy man, the child skipping over cracks in the sidewalk and plucking dandelions, the electric current of the air conditioner in the vents
Laugh loud and long, at the word you said wrong, at the way the shadow looks like someone climbing the wall, at your mistakes at trying to learn a new language, laugh with grace because mistakes are just part of learning.
Turn the page gently, past the flower a toddler gave me in a garden, past my scribbles during a sermon in a language I did not know, past letters and memories, all pressed together in the eternal book.
Wide stretch, arms above head, full body shiver, little shake to stay awake, eyes blink fast, head jerks up, look around.
Voice low and curling over smoke, heartbeat of the earth in the stories she tells, sinking into blood and bone, who we are, where we came from, ourselves in words recited
Honey sweet, bees murmuring, I roll over, carefully in clover, ant legs prickle my skin, eyes closed, branches make sky-lace above me, soaking the sunshine to carry warmth and light when the dark comes back again.
The candle tapers to a point, flame licking out smoke, pushing away the dark, slow and steady, like an oar in deep water, hope flickering but reaching tall and slender, wax drips and puddles cold. We talk low, leaning against our chairs, brown warm wood, night falling like a heavy blanket but now the talk is good. Now the dark cares for secrets like the soil for seeds. Now, they can grow into truths.
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