by M.J. Neary
Waking up in the fresh linen sheets,
So delightfully cold, and neat, and mine,
I inspect yesterday’s cuts on my feet,
Hardly recalling how I got them, and
smiling—
How quickly they heal! Must be
young age.
In the afternoon’s hearth
I thank the bumps and pits in the road
Which keep me from rising my eyes
To the blinding sun.
The sweetest fruit I know
Is a green pear, hard and dry inside.
It doesn’t attract bees.
In the indigo twilight I wait
Until the lark’s throat dries up,
Until he runs out of songs and drags
To his nest, until the flowers
Run out of their sugary breath and close.
Then it’s safe to come out.
Deep in the night I wink at the moon
That steals the ember from the tips
Of my companion’s hair, as we both
Hide in the green eyelashes of the earth,
Mocking the fires in which we’ll never
burn.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M.J.
Neary is an award-winning historical essayist, multilingual arts &
entertainment journalist, novelist, dramatist and poet. Her novel, Wynfield's
Kingdom, is featured in the March 2010 edition of First Edition Magazine
(UK). Her play "Hugo in London" was acquired by Heuer, and the
sequel "Lady with a Lamp" was published by Fireship Press with the
photos from the show. She also has a book of poetry "Bipolar
Express" published by Fireship Press. Currently, M.J. Neary works as
an editorial reviewer and steady contributor for Bewildering Stories e-zine.
