Dagdia Island
Life in the trenches


Heat weighs heavily upon the garden path
Hazy, hovering, humidity presses down on the day
My clothes cling in a rumbled mass against my drenched body
An errant strand of sweat-soaked hair lays draped over my cheek
I tuck it behind an ear as meandering streams trickle between my breasts and down the center of my back
Alone and immersed in discomfort, my moody heart curses a recurring memory and the stifling lack of oxygen
Searching, always searching…
Pain from old wounds prods my senses
My aching chest is flooded with restlessness
Like a woman, I cry
I find a fallen log and sit, overwhelmed with anger, frustration and oppressive rays
Kicking off my shoes and squinting out over the still waters of the lake bring me thoughts of you
You would have known just what to say…just how to handle my mood
But you are no longer here to hold my face in your hands and look beyond my pupils into the depths of my soul
There are no whispers to put out the fires
No arms to offer protection
No lips upon my face
I search myself for strength and balance
I find little in the trees that whisper your name
Copyright MG Mack all rights reserved


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