No one remembers those wet Decembers
mist trails coiling around sparkling bark
when in came morning without warning
throwing me to the deep end of the pool.
No one recalls those roughly bricked walls
dark splotches spreading across desert red
you pressed a tin of sand into my hands
pilfered earth from the heart of the world.
No one remembers those wet Decembers
hiding with the dogs beneath the stairs
hearing your voices and years of spoilers
your house less haunted than my head.
Wonderful writing from you. A poignant feel to this. Reminds me also of Louis L’amour stories .
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Oh thank you very much! Your kind thoughts and lovely words are always appreciated.
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❤
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Thank you for reading! 🙂
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This is hauntingly echoic to me of times of war and peace and memories. This is awesome
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Thank you again Brittny! 🙂
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