Picture This

Just picture this:

The moon is out. The stars are twiddling their thumbs in soft delight. Girlish sighs coat the air. Dew drops coat the trees. Moonlight the grass. You’re lying there in the glade, her fingers wrapped in yours. And you’re both smiling. 

Just picture this:

A flock of birds moves as a trapezoid over the wintered lawn. More flocks sprinkle breaks in the trees. The leaves have become soil. The earth reclaiming what is hers. In the car, a guitar melody simmers the blues. Your hand is in her lap. Her hand is in yours. And you’re both smiling.

Just picture this:

You pull into the driveway and see your latticed soul in the chain link fence. It is winter time. And she is gone.

Just picture this:

The sun is out and it’s drizzling. There’s a thick, white fog filtering through the forest. Frost blankets the soil, and the still hanging leaves. There’s a book in her bag. And its words are dancing in her heart. And she’s happy.

Just picture this:

You’re on a dock above the frozen Osage . Her memory lingers on your skin like deep purple lipstick. It’s okay now. The world is asleep. Moon howls of the Ozark night clang from the darkened trees. You are letting go. And you’re both smiling.


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