holiday

aspirations settling in,
palm of my hand
stained dark blue
when I write
on dampened postcards
and trip on twigs
woven into baskets
hitting softness,
tired thighs.

ornaments hang,
laundry refusing
a gentle wash
in bleached fog
aiming to negotiate
highway exits,
ambulance lights,
and stray boxes
while quietly gloating.

lay your head
on wicker white
and curl your toes
when wasps arrive
with no intention
to harshly sting
unless you bite
into aging apples,
skin scorched and dry.

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5 thoughts on “holiday

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