today the sky wears a lone bird like a hairpin sent by a lover from another border. under this i breathe, among the grasses that touch my skirt with their hands, forever among trees I climbed up as a child only to climb down an old man. like me, the trees wear their age on their crooked spine but here where I can comb the wind's wild hair with my old fingers here among silver oaks and wild strawberries i wake up with white jasmines in my mouth
10h
14h
Hey, just wanted to say, I know I haven't been active here for very long so there's a lot I've missed, but this is probably my favorite of your pieces I've read. The breathless jumping from one interconnected image to the next works really well with the concrete "crooked spine" that you've shaped with the words themselves. It's sensitive and slightly melancholic, which is my favorite pairing for poetry. I especially love the "comb the wind's wild hair" turn. 😁
19h