Daily Lit Deviations for March 5th , 2012
MapsRed and blue and green and black veins stretch
across pages, spider-webbing out across expanses,
across golden fields, green pastures,
and evergreen blanketed hillsides
that reach towards mountain tops.
The cardinal nor the rose can claim us.
We are more free than these boundaries insist upon,
free to break through their dashed lines;
it's all just an illusion, like so much else
between destinations and dreams.
We speak of wants and desires so freely
until we submit to being folded into creases,
never neatly, and always with a struggle
to open up and expand beyond outstretched arms.
Our seams will never touch like this, never flourish
into roots of family trees in gardens of our choosing.
I wish the wind would whisk us away on clear currents,
and toss us to fate and chance; hardships be damned!
Why do we never take our chances one step further,
testing the strength of our confines?
Copyright © 2012 Jen Fowler
All Rights Reserved
once.the world was wider, once: strewn bright
and willing to a fingertip's beckoning, riddled
with roads that spilled in breathless wanders
to otherlands of reverie. i remember
the promise i made a wild changeling child
before i bade her hush and say goodnight --
i've not woken her since: she sleeps and i steal
her spun-glass dreams for my garden
of wilt, ever longing to hold
the ghost-dance that spins by their dying light.
GoldenThe wooden creak and bump of wheels on cobblestone slowed. Benjamin slid open the curtains on the carriage window and sighed. The country house they had pulled up to was completely dark it had the look of an abandoned building.
Elizabeth had forgotten. Again.
He shouldn't be surprised. None of his friends would be. They all heckled him mercilessly about his parent's choice for his bride. She was unconventional, absentminded, and completely uninterested in royal affairs. But despite her many flaws, he had found himself caring for the woman.
Which, of course, led his friends to tease him all the more.
He pushed himself off the seat with another sigh and stepped out, nodding slightly to the carriage boy who held the door open for him. Raising his voice, he called out into the crisp night air.
"Elizabeth! Hello! Is anyone home?"
A ghostly face appeared in the att
it's a quick drive to where we live.I know you don't believe in beautiful things. In fact, I know you don't believe in much of anything. I swear that's okay, because what I'm asking of you isn't meant to be built on blind faith it isn't meant to be a split second decision. I'll give you the time you need.
Everything is brighter from the passenger seat of your old four door sedan with the black paint chipping off the front bumper, rust eating through the edges and corners of the doors. I've never seen so many shades and tints of green as I have curving around the sides of these country roads with you too fast, too slow, too here then gone. When you drive fast enough, the entire world disappears. It took us a weekend and all of Wisconsin, and you still won't tell me where we're going. It's okay though. You could be my home.
Lake Superior always comes in cold. The water laps at your ankles, freezing your skin, sending a quick chill through your bones. It reminds me of you with your too cold fingertips against