Writing From the Road: Roseau, Minnesota

This morning’s poems, from Abigail Danielson.

Gentle Morning
By: Abigail Danielson

I’m leaving I say I’m going to go Away and alone I grab my spoon And one yogurt too And off I go Out the door Into the sun I feel the sweet salty air in my nose The seagulls screeching The morning mist And colden wind tangling my hair I’m barefoot and belong to the ocean In my silence I savor my walk All alone Just me and my thoughts Then, I meet Vancouver She is older, with her white hair With many memories to share We walk, we laugh, we learn I tell her my stories And she shares hers.

 

The Cut on My Cheek
By: Abigail Danielson

It holds a memory The cut on my cheek Of a sister, a friend We laugh as she tickles my tummy Then, smack on my bed frame There goes my cheek The spot that goes up with my smile and laugh A new spot to read our memory plastered on my cheek It holds my laughter The bruise on my hip I tried once, with the bravery of the moment, I run and jump thinking I’m clear Then down goes my hip, hard on the bar A new lesson learned with the laughter in the air It holds an adventure The scar on my foot Jumping, splashing, swinging into the cold river water I step and slice My foot is severed I get out and walk as my mistake flows on the ground We walk through the woods with my new adventure, held in my scar.

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