The Ache
In and out went the motion,
leaving her mind spent.
Always the ache of the note,
Playing harsh, pounding sullen oak.
So flat, the speech of his high nights.
Lips among the crowd — shouting.
Fighting ‘til morning.
And she wakes to vacant cold.
His blood-stained sink.
Her, tired of the burden.
Him, the voice of dread.
So, she sooths the bruises,
to save the life she left.
Let go this ache.
Know, her ache was dread.
Her Whirl
On a cold night, I found the world at peace. Underneath warm blankets, I felt the calmness of her whirl in me. The outside, the unknown, it took my hand pleasantly. The touch rough and strong. Such lovely souls to feel the words once given to me. They cry out for comfort in her woods and seas. They need her strength in weakness. Why, our bones grow slow, and her grace builds swiftly. I took her example to heart in longing for purpose. Whatever am I to be but at peace in the wild, where neither pretense nor arrogance find.
And the ache I felt, oh it took me.
Toward the ocean crest, the white end that soared brightly before me.
Why were the waves so high? The roar swept away each whim,
the fleeting longings and thoughts that kept me.
I knew the path ahead surely.
As the day lay dying, I knew
my end toward the sea.
Wherever my body leapt
she would take me
So, in surety, she led way
So, in my own haste, I set the pace
Forward marching
Toward the waves
In honest truth
I died that day.
Lake House
Time began passing faster and more fiercely
I looked forward to moments planned
I preferred to plan
But, as they came, they sank beneath expectation
Passing quickly as I grew
Summer sweltered the skin, winter sucked the green from the yard,
spring painted grimy pollen over cars, and fall never brought its promised colors.
I wished to move.
Those childhood times
Wandering ‘round the back lawn
Drawing lines in the grass, in repetition, nodding off to music
Behind my eyes, keeping farms and cities: fantastical quests
Hoping my parents would sit me down, me and my brother, and tell us the plan
For I loved plans
To clean out, pack up, and move away to the lake
The lake had the tree swing, the dock, and a spooky shed
I pretended the 70s style panel walls held treasures;
Just nudge the right one loose, it’ll show its secrets.
The velvet brown spinning chair held the best view
Beyond the glass sliding door wall,
spinning me ‘round until dinner graced the table,
only five steps away where we ate on the same plates enduring years
beyond my own.
The small house needed repair, but it needed people first.
It needed me there for my quests, my lines in the lawn, my tree swing.
The lake lapping the homemade dock, rocking on the waves swirling among the cypress knees
They needed my swimming and singing and catching fish,
And I needed that plan
So time would pass slowly once again.
Written by: Kayla Harper
Owl Things Considered 