targeted. no spool of thread to find a way back, no woman in white to lead the way.
they were left out in the rain. once pristine: now salted and stained stoic gray. canvas withered and burdened with trips to the park, down the block, the post office, the yardsale, and finally resigned to the porch. unworn, but not forgotten. resting, velcro performing as required, dark shadows cast on a bed of dirty daisies. yellowed soles, peeling rubber and a nautical line dipping beneath the imprints of two products of china. trip over these orthotic guardians to get to the door, fall into this household, past the knobless entrance, a gray abyss, empress jadis: "who has broken the spell?"
an older lucy, tiptoes past hardened teaberrys, a wreath of better days, to a stony beach of smooth river stones and melted tension. southern rock. an audio heart left unturned, it lilts past the rubber bins filled with aging tools and trowels. objects for amusement, piled high, with a view of the picnic below and a lawn that is deemed sub-par--too wild as it grows thicker, unrecognized, unruly.
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