Knoll

You’ll find me

in the grassy knoll

by the coffee shop

where we had our first

date

and where you left me

for eight months of

quiet, dark

ashes

lit red

in April’s light,

thin and pale,

golden

drifts of fire

hanging

like an old

horizon’s beard,

woven and weak

at the edges, at

its seams.

 

You’ll find me

in the grassy knoll, sitting

on twisted, round

rocks, looking to the horizon,

trying to be

wise

 

in my

ashes,

at my

seams.

10/30/2014

Vancouver

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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2018

atazargarof@gmail.com

BC, Canada