[yellow notebook]

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.

~
day 3
national poetry month

Published by Leigh-Anne Fraser

writer, poet, photographer, artist, illustrator, knitter,friend and fine pancake flipper

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