For my grandmother
You write in flowers
Bright phrases edging over wooden buckets
Guarded
By chicken-wire on posts
So the dogs won’t sneak in
And eat your colorful poetry.
Moon over Mountains
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(Source: soulist-aurora)
Makes me want to do yoga.
This reminds me of my grandparent’s backyard when I was a kid. My grandpa built us a tree house around the base of two cottonwoods, and my grandma had a garden that spilled out into the rest of the yard, with roses and morning glories and lilies.
I was splitting perfume into bottles
While you were in your bed with her.
You told me not to bother with you.
You told me I’d come too far
To find nothing in this place for me.
It cracked me when you said that.
Sent fissures down my spine in waves.
I didn’t tremble like I’d thought I would,
But I turned and left your house anyway.
I couldn’t stand the sight of her
With your arms entwined.
About Moon over Mountains
Hey, I'm Sara. College student and part time rugby player. This is my excuse to feel artsy and interesting. Hope you enjoy :)
P.S. None of the photos are mine, unless otherwise stated.
P.S. None of the photos are mine, unless otherwise stated.
