I see the stoney ground you grow in,
The thorns you rose from,
And I wish my words would bloom,
With the same effortlessness.
She’s just a girl,
Who runs through forests,
In a sundress.
She stood listening beneath the trees. Wind hushed loudly through branches and her body started to automatically relax. Random leaves torn from above, now free, shimmied their way down the path to adventure. Stepping out into the field, the sun embraced her thirstily and the wind lost it’s voice but not strength. She walked along the edge of uniform crop, stepping round the odd stray plant, not wanting to flatten any part of it. A couple more weeks and they’d be waist high, especially the way they were straining. “Don’t be in such a hurry” she whispered, bending to brush fingers across tips. But this was not a place to linger, it was a graveyard of problems and they lay scattered along this route. The one she was currently carrying in her pocket and turning over and over between thumb and finger was almost worn smooth. She paused to watch the setting sun and the way it’s light changed everything. For that moment, there was only exhale, sun, and wind pulling at her edges. She took the worry from her pocket and threw it across the field, watching it skim across green until it reached the trees she’d just come from. She walked on, trying to ignore the ghosts calling her from behind, hoping that this time she really had left it behind.
Country roads this morning,
Scattered with broken branches and leaves.
Nature was ravaged last night,
And her bed hair needs combing.