white drops yellow
little bits of time
off beat seasons
float clouds fall
pieces, pieces letting
go, windy teardrops
autumn rain, hush
the leaving, bareness
grips broken air
cold returns truth
gone, can’t hold on
(today I decided to walk out deep into the woods until I came up with answers to the questions I have been pondering. after walking more than 7 miles in the heat, I found myself lying face down in a grove of trees, with no recollection of what had happened. i took this photo then. i was injured, dizzy, and in no shape to walk the remaining 5 miles back to my car, but i realized that, not only did i have no phone reception, but i had no one to call to come help me. somehow i made it out. i was in the woods for almost 5 hours. after i got home, i found this poem on my phone. i wrote it today, but i have no recollection at all of writing it. i think that says a lot.)
eight miles out i fall
black out, wake up
stones edge tree lean
ask. no reception here
no one to call. leaks
from knees, red, and eyes,
clear drops of alone
air crush with know. no
breath. out of focus all.
lost. alone. maybe here
home after all.
She jumped, but the air didn’t care,
and the clouds never reached down,
just sighed, and looked away. And she
tumbled, arms flailing, hair wound
across her motionless face. But
the ground didn’t care, so it never
flinched when she hit, or cried out in
sorry, or caught her less broken.
The ground ignored her fall, her splayed
limbs and all the cracks that bled invisible.
Time didn’t care that she was frozen,
so she became the fall. No one noticed.