Lemongrass Lane

Quietly, without realizing it

I left myself behind.

Sitting on a curbside with

A half-eaten strawberry;

I think she still has hope that

On some crawling midnight

In the heat of summer

I might come back in a chariot. 

Maybe just to hold her hand

And tell her stories 

Where I finally wrote the end.

Softly as the dawn comes

Without knowing 

Any of the horrors the 

Night time wove into me;

A sprig of something strange

Has grown out of my chest. 

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

I love this so much
It’s absolutely beautiful
Thanks 🙏

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked the honest tone and the beautiful photo dear Anna.
"Maybe just to hold her hand
And tell her stories
Where I finally wrote the end."
I liked the above lines. It is cool to find a place where we can write the ending of a story. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[mattavelli]

Hello, Anna! :)
This was dreamy, and read to me as hopeful. I really liked it. My guess is the sprig was lemongrass. Thanks for sharing.