Forgive. Forgive. La figlia. The liar. Didn’t I die by this road? A stupid prayer rests through the patchouli and roses upon my thumb, I’d see the leaves swept away like baby Moses. I leave to not remember; flowers of tall envy insomnia in my head for the doppelgänger in me with her first breath, saying I alternate I tell the pillows you’re insane; to find a code in the distant mountains where they once smothered your mind, it’s torn between the thread of bad dreams and good dreams whichever comes first; each word I hide like the sleeping bluebird. But I’m here remembering laughter in seven hills the all death voltage in the clouds when it’s vanished my father howled with his knees and we walked, stuffed with who was mad first probably who loved last. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for the 6/28/2021 Earthweal prompt: When it all feels too much to bear, where do you turn for comfort and peace in your corner of the world? What part of the natural world do you visit for connection with the bigger picture, so much vaster than the human lens we have imposed on it? Is it a river? A lake? A forest? The mountains? The sea? Tell us about it.