Roxy's Rejects
A Trove of Trash

Happiness

OUTSIDE IN AUTUMN.

Standing in the moonlight

Indian summer air twirling the deadened leaves at my feet.

A glow from a distant streetlight,

A landmark for travelers of the dark

Burning golden bright through the twisted branches,

Trunks and limbs iridescent,

Beams streaming to my fingertips,

So alive that I might grasp it in my hand

And pull it tightly to my chest;

My moonlit treasure

Painting portraits in my mind,

Landscapes all within me;

And then I remember that I have a heart

And that it is beating.

 

 

WELCOME HOME.

Barefoot through the grass,

Clothes lines and a gingham dress,

Freedom like the summer sun

Kissing your outstretched arms

And shining down on the laughter.

This is what it all means.

This is what it's all about.

This moment right now

As your toes scrunch the clover

As the dog runs beside you

Leaping, bounding, rejoicing in an endless sky.

The sun glows for this, for you.

Dance among the drying towels,

Weave in and out of billowing sheets,

Dandelions kissing bare toes and feet,

Lying in the grass, breathing in the earth.

The world exists for this.

 

 

UNTITLED.

Remember summer nights when

we were still fledgling and

all we ever wanted was our

chance to be

happy? And we danced in the

fountain and the nights stretched on

as we took pictures

laughing,

basking in every minute. And in the

sunshine we’d pick our daisies and

spill out our hearts,

crying and laughing, then

swim in the lake under falling waters,

two-piece swimsuits and a

summer tan. And the

boys that we loved, how

we never stopped talking.

High school days,

summer at sixteen, such a

lifetime

ago.