The pedestal was high
Built on first impressions.
On possibility, probability, potential –
Fleeting and addictive.
Flashes of bright light, of color,
Punctuating a murky, matte surface.
Light only you can conjure.
Light only springing from your touch –
Molded and shaped,
Like words only you can pair together
In simple eloquence;
In meaning only you can find.
It makes you special,
This possibility only you can see.
Reflections flicker and change -
Mirrors and smoke.
Light sheds contrast.
Black fades to grey,
Dark to light –
Slow and deliberate focus sharpens.
Colors change, fade, and shift.
Time produces truth
Picked and pieced together from broken promises.
Shards of illusion scatter over open wounds.
The fall was far.
The potential, a lie.
The pedestal was high.
About the Creator
Christina Parkinson
Chris Parkinson lives on the Key Peninsula in Washington state, US. For the past several years, she has been building a hobby farm that she has affectionately named Crow's Croft Farm.




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