because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

it is too early

for sad winter metaphors.
september holds

a hard enough leaving
in her crumpled fist:

dry and caustic and
eager to flame. like

tracing flowers in bleach,
like soaking cattails in gasoline.

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11 responses

  1. Thank you. This brought me up from a dark place … feeling, smelling, seeing…really needed 🙂

    September 5, 2012 at 7:57 pm

    • happy my words were able to help in the tiniest bit, Eva. 🙂 hugs!

      September 6, 2012 at 12:53 pm

  2. Nice write, Joanna.

    September 5, 2012 at 8:49 pm

    • thanks, girl!

      September 6, 2012 at 12:53 pm

  3. wow….cattails in gasoline and flowers in bleach….vivid and intense in your close…tight imagery in the crumpled up fist too…

    September 5, 2012 at 10:37 pm

    • thanks, b. strangely, i took some of those images from my analytics– they were phrases searched to get to my site here, though i had never remembered using them. so i thought i would. smiles.

      September 6, 2012 at 1:20 pm

  4. 1emeraldcity

    great imagry in a short yet punchy little gem .

    September 5, 2012 at 11:29 pm

    • *bows slightly* thanks, Jacquie.

      September 6, 2012 at 1:21 pm

  5. Thank you! Don’t let autumn pass by too quickly! It’s the most nuanced (and my favorite) season. Beautiful, fierce writing here. – Moskowitz

    September 6, 2012 at 1:05 pm

    • thanks for the wise words, dear Mosk. it’s my favorite time of year as well. 🙂

      September 6, 2012 at 1:28 pm

  6. hypercryptical

    Lovely stuff, the crumpled fist perfect imagery.

    Anna :o]

    September 6, 2012 at 1:50 pm

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