Little Girl Don't You Worry

By -
 

Little girl don’t you worry, though the story is stained, there will always be rivers and the wind’s spacious shivers and creeks bubbling gently ever on. 

Little girl don’t you worry, though there’s bitter in the berry, there will always be blooms smiling white and tiny on the hillside, basking in the sun’s soft laughter as it warms. 

Little girl don’t you worry, though the snow ever flurries, it leaves the edges soft and silent and the fields blending gently with the sky. 

Little girl don’t you worry, small mice will always scurry and ants always hurry and black birds dot the aether like a painting of the sea. 

Little girl don’t you worry, though black is cracking souls and snakes are staining worlds, your mother is home now with the wind and the washing and your father is waiting at a station, waiting for a bus that takes him home to you.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Hotel at the Top of the Mountain

By -
   Erraline sat at her balcony looking out at the pearly sky and snowy peaks that surrounded her. Dove-gray clouds softened the stark black and white mountains that ringed the hotel on all sides.    This was her favorite space in her rooms, out here alone with the open sky and cold mountains. Being with them made all her frustrations seem very temporary, they cleared her thoughts and made her feel like something would come, something might change.    "Erraline?"    A voice wafted out from inside, and Erraline sighed. She lifted her head and enjoyed the wind against her face a moment more, skirts ruffling against her legs, stray hairs wafting away from her neatly done hair.    The balcony door opened with a chuk  and Erraline turned away from the wind.    "Erraline? There you are, it's time to begin your lessons."    Erraline followed Madame Oyena into the little library that served as her schoolroom. ...
Read more

Dino Boy: Not Like the Cemetery

By -
  Rex could feel the death in the dirt.  It wasn’t cemetery death, cemetery death was neat and ordered. Bones that belonged to the same bodies were buried together in chosen plots, in their own special places, arranged the same way they’d been arranged in life.  The bones here weren’t like that, they hadn't been cared for. They 'd been jumbled up and mixed together and then rattled carelessly down into the ground like trash. And it wasn't just the bones here. He had always been able to feel the bones, to feel the last ruins of living bodies under the soil. He'd always been able to feel that. The blood was new. And dark.  There was anger in the blood, wrongness, a rage that made it cling. And it bubbled . He could feel it coming up from the earth, screaming through his veins, boiling through his blood and into his brain in a raging, roiling blackness roaring injustice- He gasped as his knees hit the dirt.  He breathed in in deep, heaving gulps and pushed himself ...
Read more

Spirit on a Wire

By -
     The city people say a spirit walks their wires.      The lonely people are the ones who know him the best. From a balcony, from the street, they see a pair of red and black sneakers pace the power lines, the figure above them hidden beneath baggy clothes and a deep hood. You can see his ankles, they say, confirmation that it is in fact the figure of a man walking the space between the telephone poles, only a single black line between him and falling. They never see his face. They only see his back, see his arm, see a collar and a deep shadow.     The lonely people love him like one of their own, and the other people love him as their protector.      He has an iron grip they say, and feet that walk the air like the steps on a fire escape. He needs no weapon for the men in the alleys.       There are stories, you see, stories of old women and young women, stories of beaten men who saw the gray shadow appear be...
Read more