I am the river’s raging waters
looking for the poetry of lavender
and the cerulean sky.
I am the taste of equinox that ripens
the burgeoning sprout.
I am words buried in obituaries of
uncertainty and doubt
looking for answers
and a gentle taste of love.
I am the rolling thunder on this humid day
in late May.
I am a devil in a blue dress,
a seductive cliche.
I am despondency and dejection
loathing insolence and intolerance
in a septic, morbid world.
I am a hoarder of wounded
romantic stars and an eternal moon.
I am the words that crease your soul
bend your mind
sending shivers up and down your spine
on a traveled, speckled road
just trying to find its way back home.
Grace notes: Tell me, in your wildest imagination, if you could shed your human existence, what might you become? A red dress, a golf cart, a piranha, a haiku, the loudest scream? What an interesting story that would make.
© Connie Song 2024. All Rights Reserved.
