when I wake up I try to remember / what age I should be / on a Saturday filled with shades of champagne / not the age of my bones / but the age when my cheeks are rosy / realms of fantasy / meet in the southeast corner / on the map of our hometown / weeds pour out of my fingertips / like the new found veins that brought the abandoned car back to life / lores around here can’t be trusted / but I believe in the day greenery sprung from crying hills / forests split their palms open to claim years of rust and broken howls / if only to give breath back to a town taught to hold theirs / I do this at a cost / my spine cracks / like a skater who gave into the ice / I dig for the soaring birds / clouds stick beneath my low cut nails / the tree limbs shake sense into me / honey floods the sunset / I don’t waste a moment guzzling it down / and the warmth awakens something in the back of my throat
Kelli Lage lives in the Midwest countryside with her husband, and their dog, Cedar. Lage is currently earning her degree in Secondary English Education. Lage states she is here to give readers words that resonate. Awards: Special Award for First-time Entrant, Lyrical Iowa.
