Nov 02
Yellow Sweater's picture

One Moment at a Time

My tree, with its small gold leaves, is shrouded in mist. The air is cold and thick as it trickles down my throat. It’s hard to breathe in the mornings. I wiggle my toes to keep them warm and pull my dusty blankets to my chin. I listen to music with space between it’s beats. I fill that space with my own quiet tapping: the memory, the anticipation of true rain. Lying dry and rumpled on top of my laundry basket, is a marigold chain. Summer’s celebration clutters my room. I don’t know what to do with myself quite yet. My fingers jitter on the keyboard and the screen hurts my eyes. I drank too much tea. 

I have never been very good at playing chess, 
or constructing plots, 
or lighting candles and telling soft jokes 
that makes you smile.  

I read Howl last night. 
I howled my voice away.

I dipped my fingers into 
the sacred mirror of insanity, 
but the cool water made me shiver. 

The moon filled the sky’s entirety. 

Let's take this One Moment at a Time.