Ode
Even Silence Has Wings
As I slowly opened my eyes, the world around me dissolved into a canvas of pale light, a blankness that seemed to stretch on forever. I blinked, and with each flutter of my lids, the void sharpened into shapes, like a watercolor painting taking form. A figure took hold at the periphery of my visional bird, silent and still, watching me with an unblinking gaze.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 3 months ago in Poets
BACKSEAT BLUES. Content Warning.
Backseat Blues I had a dream the other night. This morning, I was thinking about the world today in 2025. My thoughts took me back to 1955. My poppa owned a 1953 Chevy. We drove everywhere in that car. I remembered an event in 1955. I was five years old and as I watched the trees, mountains, deserts fade away as my poppa drove that Chevy like he was king of the road. Mom and Dad were cool. Now I am seventy-six. I closed my eyes today, drifted back to midnight as I lay in the back of that old yellow 1953 Chevy listening to Hank Williams on the radio sing, '‘I am so Lonesome I Could Cry.” I can still hear my poppa sing that tune softly. Mom would look over at Poppa, smile, then turn back and smile at me. I would hum the tune, then cry. I looked up at the stars, and I asked God, the Universe, “Was I Born Before?” For a day I dreamed about my archives, and I am now smiling at the end of the evening before midnight as I can still hear my Poppa sing to Hank Williams as we drove that old 1953 yellow Chevy down life’s highway.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 3 months ago in Poets
