Once Upon A Time There Was A Girl

One year ago…….

Chimera Poetry

atlantis-sinking saul espinosa

Once upon a time there was a girl
she was in my class in school
a gypsy some said
she was not beautiful
she was sometimes dirty
mostly she was silent
but when she spoke it was to tell strange stories
about disappearing islands and crystals of power and flying underwater
the playground sages twirled their fingers around their head
and whispered cuckoo
then went back to their kickball
I tried speaking to her once
in the park near a stately old tree
but she seemed sad and didn’t say much
just traced the bark shapes with one grubby finger
and looked to the sky
there was a terrible storm one night
with winds and driving rain and lightning fracturing the black
the neighborhood houses were in darkness but through the clash of storm cymbals
a flash of surprising laughter pierced
swift as a bubble bursting
and just as quickly…

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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