she lingers

 

giphy

above the brook’s surface,

as thought insinuates

itself past itself,

and petals escape eddies

to slip downstream

like small silent ships

without consequence,

here, on the rock’s face,

a sheen of mist,

far into the afternoon,

clings to shadows

folded within crevices

like secret notes

tucked furtively

into a back pocket

before she walks away

 

(February 25, 2018)

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