Month: January 2019

oregano, thyme
it’s all I have left of her
smells from her kitchen

a sliver of moon
trying to hold back morning
dawn awakens

she chops rhubarb
seven bags line the counter
sings of not dying

petals uncurl
revealing another shade
over a week’s time

a hotwired Jaguar
the final straw
the ticking clock
a ticking time bomb
the thunderclap of the impending storm
the glint off each ocean wave
the wishing star
longing
a stolen kiss in a dark hallway
on the cusp, off the cuff
the sound of snowfall
a scrambled signal
your unspoken scream
a crescendo
the final stop on the last train –
the end of the line