Before you immerse yourself in this succulent little slice of verbiage, take a moment to remember that I’m still calling for submissions to the poetry anthology and look forward to featuring your work here on my website. IT’S FREE PEOPLE…and you get all the feel-good bragging rights of being ‘published’. So consider and send me your stuff.
Okay, proceed to the Verse…
Puzzle
If I could stand in those empty fields once more.
The sun and wind bearing down,
Driving back the faint of heart.
If I could catch the notes of sage on the back of my tongue,
And the distant blue horizon
Far and stretching for eons
The time of endless days, turned eye-blinks.
If I could walk those creaky halls, and the comfort of shadow
The patterns of wood and love
If I could smell the dust of my bedroom, hear the closet door creak,
Lean against kitchen countertops, where the coffee pot left
Traces of brown on the laminate.
If I could just go back.
To that time
To that girl.
Maybe I could find the pattern of me,
The places before broken lines were drawn.
And piece the puzzle back together.
Maybe in this place, the dirt that grew beneath my fingernails,
The dust that scattered through my hair
The sweet sunshine that painted my cheeks in freckles
And the smell of an innocent child who belonged to the wild.
If I could just run those tracks, single and winding through empty fields,
On the squeaky tires, of the most faithful steed,
Who’s cracked seat pinched tender thighs, if ever the thought to sit occurred.
If I could spend the day on an adventure,
I could find the greatest one yet.
The one that tells the story,
Of a girl who was fearless
A girl who loved the wind and the sun
And the freedom beneath her was a fair gale to wings
Of a girl who wouldn’t give up.
Not ever.
Of a girl who persisted and
Stayed wild.
Maybe I could find the pattern of me,
Before the broken lines were drawn,
And piece the puzzle of myself together again.
