cinder
she felt the blue moss underfoot.
the moon a silver son.
a wind blew past her,
memories of wildflowers and cedar sap
and golden sands
and holding hands
and campfire songs and far away stars dancing overhead.
fiery flames lift up at night
swirling embers embraced the darkness.
times of warm woods and wool hoods,
and stalling engines and concrete rooftops.
and small hips and rosey nose tips
and holding tight and blowing kiss.
and saying farewell forever and ever after
until the night she saw you
pushing your baby in the grociery cart.
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