the northern face is frozen
with sheer cliffs jutting out of the dirt
skyward as they stab the darkened overhang
of chemicals, vapors and grit.
if she squints her eyes just right
in the rising light she is not alone
and rocks take form and move in pace
as she climbs the miles of vacant trails.
soundlessly a shimmering green snake
slowly shifts across her steps
a winding path that is hers alone
but shared by many counterparts.
somewhere above her head
she will pause to drink chilled air
evaporating quickly back to earth
as she wonders if memory serves her well
and if summertime will ever return.
- "Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web. She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time.