coming of age

gravel crunches underfoot

trees wave their lofty branches

a quiet rainy morning

winds talk through wild baby hairs

fingers reach to grasp the hand

of the teacher pall bearer

noting silence in the throat

lightning swiftness in the gait

knuckles bursting from the skin

betwixt right now and ever

the breeze states through woman locks

sorely peering through the glass

explicit emotions exploding through the tongue

knowing she is scarcely done

in walking through her wreckage

2 thoughts on “coming of age

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