Weathered Planks
Poetry by Rebecca Thrush
in the days of tanned skin and ringlets,
of bubbling wet chalk and melted popsicles I filled my cups with rainwater and stolen flowers, paid mind to nature’s wonders and shared rainbows, amidst red-skied mornings, too young to take hold of my own helm then, as my honey turned to amber I began to fall feet-first between wind and water I knew I was not yet my master, but I could feel the mutiny rising surrounded by bugged humidity, losing mind to creaking silence as the edges of my life tossed from the head sea I prayed for nights of sunset orange now, as I attempt to skipper, I dream of rain I do not know when my cups became so empty, sugared water drying into murky stains, but I can see the storm upon horizon calling out for worthy opponents |
About the Writer
Rebecca Thrush works in property management but has an undying love for reading and writing. She has previously appeared in Open Minds Quarterly, and is online with Indolent Books and Coffin Bell Journal. When not working, she can be found testing new recipes or exploring nature with her loving partner and their cats Penelope and Hugo.