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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