her cigarette smokes itself dry
lingering like Sinatra in the ashtray
evaporating sweet as memories
of summer Saturdays
soaking up sun,
those long lasting
breezy evenings
spent swimming at the watering hole
down along the windswept wilds
of the rugged Rappahannock
with Robert Joseph
when she could still
hold her breath
underwater
and hold her water and
water her tulips and roses and daffodils
without slipping a disc
in the old days--
those younger days--
the final act of innocence
when slipping into something more comfortable
was as easy as being
comfortable in her own skin
when risking running for no reason
was not
beyond reason: the season of flight was hers
and she was
racing the wind
and sin
was a thrilling temptation,
not a curse,
not the accursed place
where she
wakes
to a pile
of dripping ashes
spilling over the edge
***
Copyright © 03/02/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
JUL | JUN | MAY | MAY | MAY | MAY
Unofficial Challenge Winners:
Homecoming | Ask Me in December | Story of Humanity | Strangely Art
Keep reading
More stories from Christy Munson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH7 days ago in Critique
Comments (3)
This writing is so fabulous.
Oh, wow! This is excellent. Lots of great lines and phrases. "The rugged Rappahannock" is a simple phrase, but is outstanding alliteration.
Great imagery!