by Heather Brager
it would still be dark further west
she would remember plum colored hills
benevolent, cold and drunk
bones removed from their hands
small trinkets nestled, in deep pockets
the memories of declining charm
winds pushed west to east
peaks reflecting in wet eyes
she lived in a glass amongst the ice
it would resurrect in the morning
mist in their mouths and frost on the foothills
they knew this would happen
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I feel this glass is filled with much sadness in this beautiful but short soliloquy…
ReplyDeleteI picture sitting up late at night trance like slowly circling a glass of whiskey on the rocks mesmerizing as the ice and caramel liquid twirl near the edge while pondering what was, what is, what will be.
As always with your work Heather, your innate ability to create a unique mood for each reader as you paint a still life in time with your words is nothing short of amazing… nice… very nice.
Thank you, Gary! :)
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