Tagged: fingers

like children, we wrap

like children, we wrap
our fingers tightly around
the end of summer

may we have the privilege to
worry about nothing else
.
20210906:2246
y

the mortal root of

the mortal root of
the verb, to seek, is to never
find – simplicity

snaps its fingers to the beat
of our foolishness, amused
.
20210608:2311
y

there are pages

there are pages
that beg to be
turned, stories that
press too
tightly against
each other,
sticking to our
impatient fingers
.
20190223:2102
y

** in the absence of The Daily Post from WordPress, here’s your daily prompt: stories

every twenty-first

every twenty-first
wintry afternoon, allow us
to storm a lemon

poppy seed castle, fingers
glazed, mouths sweet and victorious
.
20180215:2141
y

anticipation

t minus one entire

t minus one entire
season to winter,
mom and i are giddy,
fingers sugar-
tipped, mouths
citrusy sweet.
end-of-summer
weather is meant
to be this candied-
orange-peel-sticky
.
20170924:2040
y

being an arm’s

being an arm’s
length away
from comfort, we
can so easily
forget how
lucky we are,
use our hands and
fingers like
fiery weapons
.
20160924:2057
y

it is known, or

it is known, or
rather felt, that
memories get
shifted around
in the body, from
eyes, to liver,
to heart, to
fingers, to
skin, to feet.
how else can
we explain
the heaviness
from walking
away, walking
off, walking
to make sense
of it all, to
stop the rest
of the body
from feeling
.
20160711:2052
y

the years gather like

the years gather like
pleats, pinned into
place hastily by the
unsteady fingers of
memory, only to
reveal that we are
no closer to
immortality
than we imagined
we would be
.
20150218:0855
y

interlaced, our

interlaced, our
fingers run parallel
to loss – even
clasped tightly,
these moments
are meant to leak
.
20130616:1527
y