caught in the branches

hanging like a dead limb
a boot caught
in between
the good apples
the low-hanging fruit

easy options
gravity always falls
and then

what is left
for us?

some of you may have noticed

how quiet the still of rain can be
how the soft pages between the sheets
can remind you of warm thighs
light weight clothing
on sweat wet damp skin

basking in the moment of almost
but just not quite yet

what rays reach your hairs
the tip of your head
the top of your

well, nevermind.




(i graduate tomorrow.
i breathe again the next day.
be still, my fleeting start. enjoy. the silence.)

so quiet, lately

the lights have gone silent
small buzzing rings in memory, not in actual
hum........


hum.
hmmmmm


well
then
what do we have here.

very little, when relaxing.

if sitting outside during the sun shine hours,
we note one small thing, that was different before, but now,
apparently the same

there is a freckle on my eyelid. i see it move
as my closed eyes change direction.

a constant.
amongst.
the forgiving,
yet balant
storm.