A Path

May 6, 2009
By Cailin Kingsbery BRONZE, Slidell, Louisiana
Cailin Kingsbery BRONZE, Slidell, Louisiana
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

A Path

There’s this path to the left…I take it alone

Patches of warm yellow
Break up the blocks of cold gray
The trees are alive, green
Sometimes brown, broken.
There’s a spot where the sun shines so bright,
So long, I forget
Those cold, gray places
But then the tips of my dancing feet step outside
The sunshine
My toes are damp, dark, shadowed
I try to pull away
I don’t want to go down the path
Don’t want to be swallowed by black, gray, dark
Don’t want to leave yellow, gold, bright
It’s as is if the warmth is shoving,
The cold dragging

There’s this path next to mine…
Random bursts of golds and suns
Seep into the dark shadowy black
The long limbs covered, gossamer green
Others drenched, heavy blankets of decay
But there’s a spot where the yellow illuminates the path so beautifully,
So incandescently, She forgets
The dark and gloomy sights up ahead
But then her tippy-toes slip outside the
Evanescent sunshine
Her small feet are chilled, damp
She tries to pull away
She doesn’t want to go down the path
Doesn’t want to be engulfed by the unknown grayness
Doesn’t want to leave the gold, yellow sun
It’s as if the sun is pushing,
The night pulling

I stare through the broken trees,
She offers a sad smile, my heart leaps
It’s you

Dancing feet stop, laughing eyes die, smiling lips fade
My feet, your feet drag, eyes widen, lips thin
Brown and broken trees
Dark and cold
Hurt your bare feet, my bare feet
Tear the dresses
Tears sting the pale white faces, the icy skin
Don’t know where I am going, where you are going, can’t see
The sun, the warm, the gold
You look, I look, but the eyes, glazed and lost
See only

Dripping, mold
Black pockets

You hear, I hear, but the ears, numb and aching, hear only

Draining, massacre
Bellowed pain

You feel, I feel, but the fingers, stiff and dead, touch only

Dying, murder
Bloody palms

No sound.

No touch.

No light.

Stumble, crash.
Crawl, drag.

Heartbeats numbered.

Dress stained, ripped
Limbs numb, broken
Fingers reaching, dirt under the nails

They reach outside the dark, the cold

It’s warm
Your fingers, my fingers bend, you can touch, I can touch
My eyes, your eyes laugh, I can see, you can see
Your ears, my ears open, you can hear, I can hear
My lips, your lips part, I can smile, you can smile

The yellow, the gold, the warm
The path keeps winding
Keeps going













Never stops. Never ends.

Your path will cross mine, Mine will cross hers.
Your path will cross his, His path will cross mine.
Her path will cross yours, His path will cross hers.
And then you’ll have a dancing partner,
You’ll have a hand to hold.
You’ll have a heartbeat to dance to when the yellows and golds don’t sing for you
You’ll have a touch to create warmth with when the warm goes cold
You’ll have eyes to laugh with, lips to smile at
You’ll have arms to carry you.

I’ll be your dancing partner,
I’ll hold your hand
I’ll be the heartbeat keeping rhythm while you dance
I’ll be the touch that makes the cold disappear
I’ll be the eyes that invoke laughter, the lips that reflect your smile
I’ll be the arms that carry you.

There’s this path to the right…we take it together.

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