Sawyer Fell

When the air is crisp,

with a chilly breeze,

fall puts a spell on me.

The leaves fall in a wisp,

as an artist weaves-

a portrait of the fiery sea.

Though, it’s not February,

love seeps through the air.

You are not a number. 
You are not a letter. 
You are not something that can be
 measured 
on a scale 
with a beginning 

My childhood home is filled with plants,

plants that we never water

but are somehow still alive.

Its island is littered with junk mail,

different types of olive oil,

stray flakes of salt,

In most stories, there’s only two sides.

Though, that is not the case here.

Four sisters, rule the land side by side.

The eldest, Winter, rules with a heart of ice.

As her little sister, Spring creates a sea,

Never forget this moment my child, the moment you began to feel,  

The moment you first felt alive. 

It was night, 

If you wrap your hand around your mother's wrist 

your fingers will touch. How 

do you come to terms with that? How 

do you learn that your father's shoulders