Dust

Poem

I went back;
Picking my way carefully through the underbrush, I realized:
I’d never noticed all this poison ivy…
Perhaps that’s why the itch persists.

I went back;
Scratching as I climbed hills I’d forgotten were there.
“Maybe that’s why my calves are so strong”, I thought.
“Perhaps, then, new molehills should be disregarded.”

I went back;
I looked into the valley of bones and debris behind me.
I held my camera up to the scene and snapped my past.
Perhaps I needed to remember.

I went back;
Realized how much treacherous terrain I had conquered,
Turned to the dust from the plain before me and gently-
Brushed it away.

more by VK LYNNE

photograph by Benjamin Combs

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