Adriana.K.Maxwell
Gauze sky, smeared with fog, crystal breath, grey blanket of mist, a goose honks on the pond. Dew drops dipping the grass down.
The bird swings on a reed, trilling out the shimmering of the water, warm sun on my back, raspberries swelled enough to burst on my fingers.
The bramble protects the garden, blackberry bush tangles stabbing the unwary wanderer. You must be careful, brushing them to the side.
Ginger was my Breyer horse, given by a mom at church whose daughter had grown out of him and became a missionary in China.
Still, calm down, deep breaths but if you are the only one keeping the quiet, standing like a stone as the waves keep crashing and wearing you down.
The wick burns low, crumbling black, sinking into soft wax, flame dying like the sun on the beach, drowning in fuel and hubris.
Tilt the bottle and watch the ship sway, never reaching the harbor.
The plum tree stands in the winter, one of the Four Gentlemen, to remind us that even in the cold, we can still blossom.
I wanted to buy a skiff
Shape the world like clay, gentle, soften as you need to, add water, squeeze it out, steady pressure, reshape and try again
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writing since 2023 · 694 entries · 687 days shown up
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the words Adriana reaches for
skynowwaterfingerssunsometimeshandsgrassredfeetdarksoftbreatheyeslightwind