A Meditation on Place

If you want to look through a window, a doorway, or as you stand nearby at non-fiction scenes described in vivid verse, follow the poetry of Shayleene MacReynolds.

The Wild Heart of Life

Stop
Take a breath
What do you see?
A teardrop stain, like dripping condensation on a window
It smears against the pad of my right thumb.
Green fingers of an aloe reaching out and to the light
Rotting soil
A black gnat sitting on a spore.
My hair is everywhere
Coming out in clumps it hangs like Spanish moss from the branches of an armchair
Wrapped around my son’s big toe
Be still
I whisper and unwind.
Cold coffee congealing in a mug
A daydream hovers near
The dog pees on the carpet
A clock lies dripping on the floor—
Nonsense
Where has all my time gone?
Dollar store dinosaurs and perfect penmanship
A gauze mask bent along the bridge
Sky blue
I sit in search of words
But words are everywhere.
With the fine strands of my braided hair I tether myself back to earth
Stay, she says,

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