To All Things Missing

Sunshine dances in three-four
Down red winds of the Day’s River,
Canary wine pedicels litter deciduous
Plateaus intoxicated if only, petals reach
For my tongue wanting to be swallowed or
Acknowledged a faulty reincarnation of chemical
Reactions, I’m human now nothing
More than ever, ambitions stifled
Reduced to making minimum
Wage and fighting each day
To stay awake,
Ran timeless together a brief escape
Encompassed again by distantly
Nostalgic surroundings, unable to bloom
Stripped of beauty, given skin and lungs and sent
To suffer here I lie spine pressed to chartreuse quilts
Hair whistling gently impersonating bluestem
Meadows dreaming restlessly suspended
In relief, speak loud oh wildflowers oh wild lovers of mine
And I unable to communicate, will listen

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Author: Montana Svoboda

I'm a genderless poet currently living in Central Michigan where I attend college for Environmental Science and English. Nature's some cool shit, frisbee's a neat activity, fountain pens are best pens, Latakia for life, coffee and tea keep these gears turning.

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