Creative Writing

(Lily Choi | The Oswegonian)
(Lily Choi | The Oswegonian)

I jogged upon the molehill, and frolicked on the ferry

 

Scampering up summer lane, and trotting through a mist

 

All to see Harry.

 

Sprinting high to autumn, and planting my toes deep

 

I looked forward, to his dreads and to days dread and I could sleep

 

Air rushes upon my sleeves, and brushed my cheeks auburn

 

Hushed by wind, my thighs quiver in the spring of each step

 

Stumbling below each sunrise, and jumping in the brisk of each sunset

 

Streaking pavements, treading green, steam stammers my temples

 

Each leap I made, I salvaged his absence… I unwearyingly forgave

 

Running into arms of empathy, cleaving to the thin threads that grasp his white

 

Tears smearing my face with wells of sorrow, knowing Harry won’t be here for tomorrow

 

A radiating touch scorches my chest, for at 12 he will return to a fruitful nest

 

Shall my strides, be a leap of love, even though I’m not the only one.