Bluebells and Cockle Shells


morning twilight

in the ever-discreet lightening

trickles into my pores

and permeates the chest

where I have hidden

my collected treasures

the wordless moments

saturated with sappy sensations

dripping colors into my mind

the times

time slowed to the subtlest of swirls

enwrapping me in fluid ripples

white-washed eucalyptus greens

reach for me

and I entwine myself with their scent

bluebells and cockle shells

ironically now in my palm

the texture and aroma

missing from the memory

of the childhood playground chant

blissful ignorance and naiveté

infused with braided rope

and the rhythm of jumping soles

on blacktop

eevy, ivy…over

yet still within me

before dawn

I return

to that earlier version

of me


Poem and images ©LauraDenise


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