chain linked fence bears false witness too,
crossing and crissed ‘round tall grasses and thwarted weeds
autumn passed leaves pock brown earth, bald, receding
fading purple cloth bag hangs heavy on taut line,
assumptions pregnant with what’s to come next;
damp rumbled cottons mix, heap high in woven rubber basket, not yet
far-left corner slopes slight, gives way to raspberry bushes
sparsely grown from broken stone and brambled brush
more thorns than fruit,
blood runs sickly-sweet through battered fingertips,
south of crimson lane
a crabapple tree squats in crooked delight,
its blushing blooms bend and turn,
cotton candy light
endless wishes for ruby red,
yield only tiny soured fruit
grown
ripened
rotting
back
to tired,
tread worn earth
beneath tethered puppy paws
hiding in plain sight, the truth can be seen; poised and present, unnoticed. waiting for a stitch to break, a seam to part, the chance to be and run free out beyond the twisted links of someone else’s paradise
.a picture of a picture. a memory of a memory.
authors note
this is a piece i have been working on since last spring. i started it not long after i began taking an accredited writing class here in colorado. i love this poem, this snap shot of a corner of a yard i spent time in. it feels so real and reflective of that time in my life. i could see and understand so much, even as i really didn’t feel seen or understood myself. that’s something i think most of us can relate to about childhood, what a wonderfully magical and confusing time in the human lifespan. i want to thank my handful of consistently reading readers; i appreciate you taking the time out of your days to read my work, to sit with my words and sketches. this outlet is such a blessing in my life. xo,s.
santos scribes 
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