Glimmers
Things have been rough lately.
It seems impossible now,
as the breeze relieves us
and we silhouette peacefully
under the evening beams
kicking the dust as
The branches wave on
wands in the skyscape
I wonder how I’ve cried so much
When I could have been
stroking leaves between my fingers
and learning about different kinds of tree.
We watch the water twinkle
as the geese form a queue
taking off one by one
for an evening swoon
leaving only ripples
unphased by it all
as the sun sparkles off
we tell the cows
we’ll bring them more treats next time
and the ruffle gratefully on.
Incomprehensible then
that I’d thought, in my hopeless hours
that I didn’t want to be
here, couldn’t bring myself to stay
sick of scalding my palms on shooting stars
that I thought I could tame.
The bridge back is unsteady,
A metal glow in the dusk
warn from foot and paw prints,
bull-heavy with memories
solid with plans.
We crunch stones
over the other side
and I think of my bathroom pebble collection.
When I get home
I hold one in each hand
smoothing them until they shine
like I once did,
and might again
Jade Wright is a dog-loving bibliophile from Norwich. She has a BA Honours Degree in English and Creative Writing, and mostly writes poetry. She has previously had her work published in several literary magazines, including The Stand, Beyond Words, and After the Pause.