It Comes in Stages

When we were children

We would lay out on the grass, 

The sky wheeling far above us, 

Feeling the motion of the earth,

Imagining

We would be launched into the stars.

 

We sat in your backyard as teenagers,

Listening to the wind howl through the broken trees. 

I heard the mournful call of ghosts,

While you attempted to draw out their silhouettes

From the branches stenciled into the sky. 

 

We stand now, adults, feet firmly planted,

Our faces turned towards the ground,

Measuring distances, time and relationships,

Calling it all vanity,

Vanity.

life_used_to_be_lifelike's picture

This one really hits home. I

This one really hits home. I LOVE it. Great write. 


"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.