The dresser in the empty bedroom is stocked with pictures
from times before I was born.
I sift, shift, shiver.
Memories swelling like a gasoline rainbow lie snared in the
purgatory
between morning glory and midnight insanity –
there are no absolutes.

The valleys of my spine are artifacts tumbled through time
and
If you trace my two halves far enough you will find
My violin string fingers trapped in the folds between
my grandmother’s garden
and the ship that houses my great uncle’s stowaway spirit.
But buried beneath the soil is a heart that will not bend to
hierarchy.

Anchored, armored.
Come, come look at your country.

“Something Like Hope,” Haley Lee (Portfolio Gold Winner, 2014)

Share your thoughts.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: