Disappear in a puff of smoke

Hot gravel blisters bubble under her big toe,

Twists and hops, remembered hurt in every step,

Sharp stone, dirty path winds ever farther.

Juke joint music rides the dry summer air,

Stifling heat crests, then cools, stereo snaps silent.

“She left hours ago, man.”

There was a day

There was a day when I was twelve.

I sat upon a purple blanket, on the green field beside the park’s baseball diamond.

The sun blazed hot.

My bare toes searched through cool blades of June grass.

I had no cares except everything.

Happiness.

***

44 word quadrille for this week’s d’Verse prompt: happiness

His arm outstretched on the bar top so long

Defining wood grain has marked his skin with deep welts, lines,

Semi-permanent tattoos, depicting the aching magnetism

Of old fashioned, warm amber, honeyed,

Pain relief. Waiting.

Just beyond his fingertips, though never beyond his grasp.

d’Verse quadrille (44 word poem) prompt: magnetic (in any form)

Disappointments descend, flutter, circle down, surrounding me

Like autumnal crimson leaves fall to rest at the base of a maple tree

Like layers of discarded, crumbling leaves, covering me up

Like last night’s blankets and denied possibilities

Like last night’s dreams

Disappear

Like me.

And while I was within
An ace of falling for your lies,
Believing your cries of devotion,
Waiting for Spring to begin.

I heard my heartbeats.
Louder than words,
Moving me towards,
A life that would not repeat,

The pain of loving you again.

***