Silverton, pt. 1

this is for you, as they all are

Your exotic tales of Silverton
I’ve always wanted to visit there one day
and, if you want to live with a haunting secret, I still do

A new direction

#
I watch a shocked world attempt to revive from winter. The wet brown scrub grass has somehow managed to hang on through a long winter.

A speck dotters through the haze. It’s buffetted about like a prop plane from an old movie daring to stay aloft. It momentarily shoots up and staggers back. It grows larger now and against the pastel sky I can tell it’s red color.


A ladybug flies out of the pastel spring sky and lands on my knee. She excitedly talks of fresh greens and the sweetness of aphids. She is distressed by the peculair angle of the sky.


#

A ladybug flies out of the pastel spring sky and lands on my knee.

She spins in circles, like a Sufi lost in meditation.

I grin and bop my head to her rhythm.

At some point I notice she is staring at me.

I shake my head, I had no idea that she had stopped dancing

I blink and try to drop back into the social contract.

I tilt my head and attempt to at least say something.

She beats vivid red wing covers at me.

I am sorry that it takes me so long to adjust.

She forgives me with a curtsy,

And crawls through my thick hair

Circles back around /my knee/.

She is unnerved by the distorted shadows

By the peculair angle of the sun.

But she let’s it rest, what hubris

it would be for the newly emerged

to cast such judgments.

Maybe it’s always like this.

She’s happy to be here,

excited about the smell of dirt,

the promise of the sweetness sweet of aphids.

She praises the heat and thawing.

//You join in her rejoicing of summer. She is excited about the smell of dirt, the sweetness of aphids. She praises the heat and thawing.//

//there’s a
lady bug sitting on your knee. It’s a red one. A dark red ladybug from childhood‚Äî
back when ladybugs were vivid and bold. She opens her wing covers and talks about summer and the smell of dirt, about heat and thawing. She jumps into a current and is swept along.
//

//
and suddenly there’s a ladybug. A red one. A dark red ladybug from childhood–when ladybugs were still vivid and bold. She opens her wing covers and spins in a circle. You join in her rejoicing of summer. She is excited about the smell of dirt, the sweetness of aphids. She praises the heat and thawing, and leaps into a current and is swep aloft.
//