Writing

Today, I watched boys climbing a log stuck vertically in the sand

And girls kicking at leaves just for the fun of it,

And oh, when did our youth slip through the backdoor unnoticed,

mother! i cry, captive of the wind

carrying my voice for those to hear who

accept failure is not an option & instead pursue

the package of progress, the patch of promise

a battle cry to be heard, 

tall

and ghostly pale

as if he were drenched in sheer silk 

was what I saw when he left the room, 

leaving behind footprints of moonlight in the halls. 

cool as a winter breeze

Ronnie Ravenwood smiled, soft and sad. “They told you I was evil, didn’t they?” Her voice echoed in the dark, wrapping around me like silk.

I swallowed, throat dry. “They killed you because of your stone.” 

I had this dream the other night that some object in outer space had been reflecting radiation onto certain people: just dissolving them painlessly into light.

I woke up just like any other day. Get up, get dressed, go to school. It was all normal up until recess. I was on the swing set the first time I saw him. A shadow of a figure that looked. . . like me?