Before We Wake

Photo A.M. Moscoso

We

could be quiet together

silent  together

tell secrets to each other

hide from the outside together

like

when the Sun is out

looking for bones and flesh to warm

whether you want it to or not.

 

We could

haunt unmapped roads together

stand at the crossroads with each other

we could

watch the cars race by or crawl by

we could dare them to stop

and offer us a ride

to somewhere

where we could

be quiet together

silent  together

tell secrets to each other

hide from the outside together

like

when the Sun is out

looking for bones and flesh to warm

whether you want it to or not.

 

We could walk

we could crawl

we could fly

take our time

to get to where we want

let the shadows of the dying day

hide our faces

and our voices

and our intentions

from the Sun

from curious eyes

that would look better

in a faded moldy  painting or maybe in a jar

hidden on  shelf strangled by cobwebs

in an attic

above a house with a rusty broken swing set-that used to be painted yellow and blue-

that sometimes  swings, all alone,   in the front yard when the air is still and the birds are quiet and the bugs scurry away as fast as they can.

 

Me and you

we could stay right here

where we are

where the grass is always green and we can

rest in peace

as the saying goes

or we could walk again

we could get up again

we could danse again

or

We

could be quiet together

silent  together

tell secrets to each other

hide from the outside together

like

when the Sun is out

looking for bones and flesh to warm

whether you want it to or not.

 

Day Three  Na/GloPoWriMo : Today, I’d like to challenge you to similarly write something that involves a story or action that unfolds over an appreciable length of time. Perhaps, as you do, you can focus on imagery, or sound, or emotional content (or all three!)

My Confidant

Photo A.M. Moscoso

When my dog is tired of hearing me talk

he pretends to fall asleep

and he fake snores

to add a touch

of realism

to his Performance Art

So.

I

talk to my friend

Edgar

instead.

 

Edgar

is

a fully articulated fake skeleton

I keep in the  closet

near my front door

surrounded by my jackets,

and my hockey stick

with a wicked sharp blade.

 

Edgar is fake, he is not real.

He was never alive.

If you say it enough times

you’ll believe it is true.

Eventually.

RDP Wednesday – ARTICULATE