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.

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