Why the How
everywhere
a million memories,
azaleas, camellias, and dogwoods.
Wisteria.
fragments of who I was, who you thought I was, who you were, who I thought you were.
still becoming who we want to be.
The exuberance of youth revived by who we were to each other once upon a time
snow days and hayrides, parks and parking, forests and rivers, apartments and offices
beds, floors, cars, couches, Chick-fil-A
music and laughter, hot summer nights and never being cold, refusing to grow old
together never forever
your hands, always your hands
weak words don’t know your
hands like I do.
Truth knows and sulks
in a corner, evading
the lie parade patiently
waiting
until everything else: premiums, interest, back child support, ex-wives, extradition, weddings and funerals, barstools and dance floors, The Cure and Van Halen
freefall away, sunsets gone on a twilight breeze,
a winking moon and round stars,
Henry Clay and the Kansas-Nebraska Act,
Gettysburg and Teapot Dome
Blood seeps into the earth, daylight savings time mocks everyone.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a subversive weirdo nerd witch who loves rocks. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction may have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
My words are mine. Suggest ai use and get eviscerated.
MA English literature, CofC
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More stories from Harper Lewis and writers in Poets and other communities.
Political Thirty-Seven
Not political? Who gets to be ahead now? Perfect...for others... * Note: I found out about this particular concept with the number 37, and I had to use it for my series of haikus on politics. I believe that finding work can be a political act, as can the decisions made by the ones hiring and deciding who gets to step ahead.
By Kendall Defoe 38 minutes ago in Poets
Comments (2)
Intriguing poem
so I got to the end and started readying this backwards, it reads really well that way too and I think that's really neat.