Salt in the Air

by ASHLYNNE KILGORE - October 15, 2020

She is but a rustling leaf

gathered in an oak tree

planted in the ground

during a hurricane.

Her mouth extends,

tongue outstretched.

The taste of something bad

is salt in the air.

The oak wavers

and trembles and falls

clinging to the ground.

The leaves shudder

But Gloria grabs her,

holds her like a mother

holds a daughter.

The eye of the storm

opens, too, and soon

she is cast away

in the wind

like a paper cup

picking up the breeze.

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