Not My Story To Tell

To the girl trapped in a net, stuck at the bottom of Poseidon’s domain- Still yourself. Quiet yourself. Those fingerprints that burn your collarbone will fade. Advice will come like fishing lines. Silvery fish masking the hooks. Kindly tell them, thank you. But you are not my story to tell. -LGF

An Indian Summer

I hope for an Indian Summer this year Deep in the throws of autumn when I have Almost all but forgotten that day on Assateague How it felt to dive under a wave, a false baptism Of water and salt. I hope for an Indian Summer because  Just one more day, or two before the... Continue Reading →

The Wine Glass

I thought my wine glass was empty. I brought it up high I was standing on a cold concrete floor I didn’t let it fall, I threw it down with force. I sliced open my fingers As I picked up the shards To give them away. It had been able to hold onto a few... Continue Reading →

Summer Storm

Standing on the shore, feet sunk into the sand Over the sea a summer storm approaches My legs are strong, spread, ready A flash of light in my peripheral vision The low grumble, a charge of desire quickens Cool air rushes up the beach Smoothing my worry lines Softly rustling my hair Another flash of... Continue Reading →

Bad Decisions

An inexperienced rafter, I find myself Racing down an un-runnable river- Narrow passages, big waves, twists and spins My heart racing with each maneuver.  I’m drunk, laughing, proud to be reckless Fully vested in the adventure; and then An unavoidable rock My body tenses, bracing for impact And I wish I were sober, or had... Continue Reading →

Standing in one spot Patiently She waited for the wind To come Rustle her leaves, sway her Branches Sweep across her bark and Leave Before a single one of her leaves Fell -LGF

Conversations

How are you? My conversations can be typed, edited, honed A thousand times before I ever hit send. Does this make me an unreliable narrator? -LGF

Homestead

Our Victorian- folk, whimsical and worn Surrounding garden plants dance in the wind, Cry in the rain and burn in the heat Once quaint gardens I forgot to trim back. The hydrangea tree, now natural and unfettered Crowds our entrance way, overspreads its boundary Her viperous roots pushing against the foundation Breathtaking. Our Victorian- vintage,... Continue Reading →

Silence

I understand now How silence is deafening. At least when we were screaming We still cared. -LGF

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