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poetry/p/pressed.txt

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+pressed flower petals
+2019-02-27
+
+***
+
+a voyage to the deeps of my grandmother's basement
+where I was born in the fog and the mist
+in the midst of a dying god's death throes
+marking the genesis of my woes
+
+you and I sit a whole world away
+while in the wires tangled around my wrists we play
+neither here nor there nor anywhere
+
+sometimes I wonder if the best of my days are gone
+swept up in the wind and scattered to the horizon
+the only proof that this ever happened some hastily-scrawled poems
+and photographs of the places where we breathed
+and blushing pink flower petals, pressed in these pages for all time
+
+Independence Park, where the clouds used to go by,
+as a newborn, you cradled me tight and then watched me fly
+now, as I yearn to go back and remember who I am
+will you sing me one last lullaby?
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander