AT THE END OF HARVEST
poetry by Jaisha Jansena
I have seen these hues
bring the deepening of my blues.
Inside the rows and lines of my swallowed up and overwhelmed disappearing.
Inside the measures of solitude that swam through sorrow, seeking something unnamed.
Inside the fall, the shrinking, spiraling, diving colors.
Inside the dead December, when the morning left and the star rose.
Inside the varnished stone I carried with me 8 different Springs.
Inside the jilted rainbows spooling a milkines around my mirror in rings.
You are marbling my pitch and I am marveling behind.
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Time hit my heart with these stinging earthly truths:
I shed charm like violets.
Pulsing piles of doubt crumpled around us. Now, an unruly dream glides through her smile.
a shallow grace flavors every action. steady questions tug at our haven. so i burned the forget-me-nots, returned the wishes i buried in dandelion dust and i burned the tawdry keepsakes, the dappled napkins, and wrinkled shopping lists, until they splintered into stains of ketchup and lettuce.
Jaisha Jansena is a writer and multimedia artist from Cincinnati, Ohio. She was born on a new moon and abandoned at birth. She is a 2013 Academy of American Poets College Prizewinner. Her work has been featured in Luna Luna Magazine, Burning House Press, and MookyChick. Find her wherever you are @jaishajansena.