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November 18, 2024
"Mes de los Muertos"

Restless

By Aleathia Drehmer

Restless

I dreamt I walked your trail,
weaving through an endless arrangement
of loops and swirls made of quartz
as the sunset burst orange rays across
the fading sky until the blindness of dark
swallowed the world.

Lost and alone, everything unfamiliar,
I had no voice to call your name.
My open mouth a soundless gape
with the echo of my thoughts
strangling the trees with feedback.

I awoke to a viole(n)t dawn,
my skin drenched in anxiety,
eyes hazy with exhaustion
looking for a way back to you,
and the winding path.






Article © Aleathia Drehmer. All rights reserved.
Published on 2021-12-27
Image(s) are public domain.
1 Reader Comments
Teresa Haight
12/29/2021
07:26:09 AM
Very nice poem!
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