3.21.18
written by: Bennett Perry
With burgeoning fingers, I type new words on new keys
Hoping for something miraculous to grow
From newly fertilized electronics
promising a path through the uncharted
And if my words take flight, dark cuts to a blue sky
I’ll find freedom past the rocky coast
Of an unforgiving north
And find spring, or better yet, summer
And all it’s warm
waiting, turning, falling, but unmoving
Sand in an hourglass unflipped.
I yearn to create something that someone somewhere will love
Clutch close
Yearn for as well
I want to be that blanket, that tea, those musical notes
Something to bring hope
And so with each crust, each layer of spongey softness,
Every fold of frosting
I pour my heart out with my hands, hoping to fill each void with the same warmth I seek.
