sample.

I try to comprehend
the goddamn patterns

shifting

slanting

twisting

if you bend something

enough times

it will snap in two

we’re all broken.

and the numbers repeat

dates

times

change

 

you always run out

when you

least expect it

then everything

shows up again

© 8.6.12 heather brager

summer nights.

we wait
for starlight
to cool the room

for time
to slow down
and take a breath

we wonder
if it will
catch us laughing
 

© 8.3.12 heather brager

the truth.

it is never endorsement enough
violent pieces buried within
soft folds of blankets, each night

she covers herself

for you, she rearranges the pages
stacks the memories and seasons
everything with just enough salt

she will never ask, for flowers

she watches the birds
singing what she wants to hear
through the open window

while you are asleep


© 7.26.12 heather brager

parts of the whole.

For Sale.  Charcoal & pastels on 20" x 30" illustration board.

stranded.

I can recall the color of the sky
on nearly every morning

it swallowed me whole
on random flights, in all directions

it pressed me firmly to the earth
as I climbed each mountain

it pushed me to the mailbox
and forced me back through doors

it spit me out on the high plains
and left me there, wandering


© 7.17.12 heather brager

crazy mountains.

she cut her teeth
on the fossilized bones
of her heritage
sucking for the last
drops of moisture
on a barren plain
touching the sky

the crow
called them
blue bird mountains
she trudged
the expanse before
the towering teeth
sanity wandering
among the evergreens

she died alone
wild and lost
a pale warrior
on the sharp stones
far beneath
the taunting cliffs

© 7.9.12 heather brager

7.2.12

memories fail us
images in the mirror
filtered by our lies

© 7.2.12 heather brager