Praise be to the morning glories
who unfurl and bloom each day
rain or shine they rise their heads
to the sky,
above
and above

and above this withered land.

Picture taken in North Hollywood, CA

Mumbles of Desire

His words drift through the phone
goodbyes spoken out of mere habit
a voice once so much with life now
an eager ambition,
a tireless hope.
She hears a lack of smile. A nervous, pleading laugh,
fading.
A vacant list of words streaming through her receiver, an unconvincing tone. She holds the phone closer,
warmth running down her cheek,
silence vibrating through her ears, her brain, her nerves.
Holding on to that last syllable before ending the call, she breathes out a goodbye.
Is there more? she thinks.
There is an infinite amount of MORE, his sigh replies.
She listens carefully to his mumbles of desire.
Listening. Listening.
A restless pause, her cue to click off. Loss of connection. She senses the silent plea for normalcy. For a goodbye to be a goodbye rather than a question,
a hesitant stutter.
For the change to revert as quickly as it hit.
A simple snap.
A rapid crack.
But she knows pleasant goodbyes are non-existent.
She smiles for him.

Picture taken in Tucson, AZ