Infatuation- The Sky in South Texas

I kick up the rocks and dust

that covers the ground here

in my attempts to leave.

Each time my eyes are called up

to the sky, thousands of lightning bugs

dizzily hovering over the empty fields.

Wind turbine blades act as a shutter,

like this place is trying to capture me

in a snapshot, wrapped up

in its dust and stars.

I pull away and

I feel the dirt sigh

and the wind chase me.

The curvature of the earth catches me,

my eyes are lost again; this time,

to amber rays

melting into an indigo abyss.

The stars disappear

among ripples of pink and purple.

I sit still, struggling to breathe,

infatuated.

 

-Chloe Marnin Lott

 

Your Daily Word Prompt – Infatuation – February 11, 2019

Come Home

Journey across heated plains

speckled with shrub and cotton,

further over swamps and rivers

by roads that most have forgotten.

Meet again the pine and oak

and hear the crickets play

a symphony in orange light,

flickers as branches sway.

Lay a blanket in the dew

to watch the morning sun

peer over the pasture trees,

and watch the young deer run.

Greet and gather with your kin

in dark green plastic chairs

on Sunday evening after church,

pecan pie warms the air.

Find a seat upon the brick

that frames the concrete porch,

enjoy the smell of marshmallows

above the fire’s torch.

Climb atop the bails of hay

to watch the cows go graze,

count the stars above the field

that November nights display.

Bundled with a knit blanket

inside a cool truck bed,

share stories of when you were gone

and wished you were home instead.

-Chloe Marnin Lott

Originally published in My Venture South magazine in Mississippi, November 2017

Lost Packages

via Daily Prompt: Delivery

I move my home, my pets,

my life, and set it up new

on this empty table.

Boxes smoke from the sun

and my belongings shrivel

in my hands.

Underneath, I dig for roots to attach

my wilting confidence to,

but dust gets in my eyes.

I would send for help,

for water from home, but

the mailman got lost last week;

here there are no deliveries,

only pending needs.

 

-Chloe Marnin Lott

 

First Impressions of Southern Texas

via Daily Prompt: Fragrance

In this place I am lost,

on a table scattered with bits and bobs,

no settings, no vegetables, no fragrant flowers.

There’s beef, some cotton in between plates,

three silver tongs, and paisley napkins.

Beside the table where I’d normally find

a towering oak to shade me, I find a scrub

to mock me and steal the moisture from me.

The grass does not greet me with a soft touch,

instead it cracks a joke and scratches my feet.

The air is empty, and it blows in a sporadic fashion,

bringing no relief to the oven I now live in.

But, I can see why this place is loved,

for the sky stretches

from horizon to horizon

and the blue is more brilliant than lapis;

when the sun sinks down to the edge,

the show of colors is like a concert

hitting all notes of the passionate soul who watches.

The clouds swirl like oil paint on a canvas,

so much so that you can smell it,

freshly applied paint from an artist

making something out of nothing.

The sky fills this place with purpose,

and for now I will call it home.

 

-Chloe M. Lott