sunday muse #214

sydney seems bitten, just stares at the stars, and the stars consume her, we wonder where she goes when those story-time-eyes close, coveralls covered in clover, grass stain knees, croaking frog, soaking wet, moonlight dripping from her hair, she chases fireflies, or maybe they’re falling stars (sydney has a little ant farm, and everywhere that sydney goes, fire ants are sure to burn ghosts down) she also dreams of poppies, all the colors she can remember, all the colors she can smell, they grow as tall as immortals, she dreams she can climb as high as she wants
all the way to the moon
or straight into a storm 

posted for the sunday muse

Published by

phillip woodruff

i live in colorado, i love poetry and fishing, i've never been to kentucky, i own 5 pairs of shoes, sometimes i drive too fast, i like craft beer, i own 37 fishing poles, i've never been to iceland, sometimes i drive too slow, right now there is a black bird outside my window, i stare at him and he stares at me

6 thoughts on “sunday muse #214”

  1. (See my note on the previous poem. It applies here as well.)

    We’re wondering if our dog got bitten by a snake recently, so I can’t help but read this tale with her in mind—including the coveralls with dirty knees. 🙂

    Seriously, read it as if it’s about a beloved outside dog, whose day you may not know every detail about, but wonder. Then imagine this piece being about its dying moments. Really beautiful, I think.

    Again, thank you. These short pieces elate me.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I don’t know how you can make simple declarative sentences sound so magical, so alive., but don’t stop. Every line here rewards the reader with a crisp image, a truth wrapped in a star. The best part is how you have made this character live and breathe and seem real and familiar even as each thing about her is fantastical and strange. I especially love the ant farm. Just gorgeous writing.

    Like

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