AvaClaire

The wind doesn't care
It takes 
and it gives 
hauling the snowflakes
and fall leaves
and raindrops 
to your front porch
some scavenging cat
you can't tell it to wait
and give you a second

The horse bucked her for the third time since they had left the town of dust. Hard soled boots and the frills of her dress a blooming rose in the sun. The broken ground of the path showed no kindness as the lady crashed down on her shoulder.

It is not an if
never was
only a few 
worn-flat
pieces of pocket change
are certain
but this was
gripped in the 
palm of my hand
til something in me
rubbed it smooth
and was certain
certain

Maybe this is what
they call
bittersweet
so blanketed
in the freedom
of summer
you forget
that the
aftertaste is 
sour
Saying goodbye
for the last 
time
deleting the tabs
exiting

What beautiful mud
puddle crumbs
chilled on my legs
some
lines
some 
teardrops
some
perfectly hole-punched
onto my skin
I ride into the puddles
whenever I can
to let eden's water
clean me