Thirty Two

Day Thirty-Two:   Island Sand Castle Dreaming

A freezing falling feeling,

Something like a trip, a mis-step

But it could only have been prevented

In a lost southern world, one with no

Ice, no drifts, no white-outs,

No weather-stays other than those of temperate

And useful measure, could it be?

Could it be something like a dream?

I sort of hope not, more of a mis-step.

Ankle deep in what could have been sand

But turns lovingly into a frigid bear trap,

Dragging the powder through the states, through the motorcar’s hums,

And alright, it took a while to warm up again, because

Amidst all of these dreams, these

These soft spots for raybanz these overflowing miscarriages

There was one or two wishes that this blanket,

These hovering layers, had come a month before.

Fingerprints melt not what the ice covers, but what I could touch

With only it just, just the tips.

So this fall, into a stranger’s car,

Between a curb and a wrm place,

Beside stumbling words, no conversation,

How is it that speaking is easier before?

Was easier before we knew so much?

So cold, so trying but not to be empty,

But to be serene, silent, still.

The firsy day I  am to embark on this writing month.  I hope that there will be a profound short story entry sometime soon, today just felt like a long poetry day.  I usually prefer my poems to be short, but I think this month for of like a challenge.  Blog posts should have writing and then a lovely little blurb like this below.    Persistence is the key for this month, to keep it up,   Sending lots of love on this frigid weekend, x