
still has the price tag on the back neon orange sticker warning me that for a $1.99 broken wounded lines will scatter themselves in black ink visible in the sunlight scrawled over torn pages until the crisp cover is worn down a hundred days of verse upturned by the rage of existence separate me from the stones rolling in shallow river water set me heavy against the current until I am smooth from the turning you will be the only witness catching drops in the creases hidden beneath to cover fingertips reaching out to hold what cannot be touched keeper now between two pale cards like cupped hands drinking along the riverbank balanced on the edge toes grip the sand drink deeply before letting go once more make room for more more stones broken wings tears laughter sunlight dancing in the ripples I watched you go with the clouds another storm passing wind bending the trees low tearing the earth like paper until stillness stumbles in held my breath long enough before going under turn the page to write I love you the poetry of wildflowers caught in the reeds. ~ la 2020