time sits condensed like grandpa’s old Valvoline tucked under the back porch steps

i’ve flown away from my soul this morning before the hummingbird came to mourn

the landing will happen later today when Ursula preps her beet salad i think that’s when it will happen

nodding trailing sinking from the surface tadpoles file in and soon enough will leap with a part of me

there i am i will paint now i can’t catch myself but there’s a little blue pain that aches to be laid out on rice paper from the kitchen drawer

9 thoughts on “flown

  1. mb, this comment is actually a response to the following post, “lava rocks”, but for some reason the comment section is not available to me, so I backed up to here: You are incredibly deft with your imagery and I truly admire your precise word choices…

    Liked by 1 person

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