It's Still Life

Fragments of a 10-Year Old

I watched her kiss our waitress by the bins behind the Pancake House – they held each other like a secret, and that memory fell into this drop of ink along with flowers that eat meat and ravenous weeds that digest flies, and I remember that my father’s voice made the world less a riddle, and that some words are deciduous because they fall without being noticed, and that cities, Dad said, litter the night by dumping light in the sky. But mostly I remember that she kissed our waitress by the bins behind the Pancake House.

North wind knots the air
Cold that rattles the birds’ bones
And hollows the night

Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.