Mist and Circumstance
Sunlit slivers of youthful fantasies
chase me, floating on beautiful foolishness -
life was meant to be pastel holidays,
sky-blue Sundays and whimsical storylines.
Time turned brittle and strange, the air became
smoky, riddled with flux and absurdity,
slate-grey Tuesdays undid me; somehow I
lost the woman of childhood imaginings.
Am I mourning her? Will I fall in the
darkness? See how the shadows make shapes on my
cheekbones, see how the thunderclouds lend me new
colours - wonderful, rich and unstoppable...
Then, my future was two-dimensional -
crayoned fancies and picture-book promises;
now, I tangle through mist and circumstance
tired and bruised - as my palette grows infinite.
8 August 2019
For Something I Am Not Contest - Craig Contest
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2019