Wild Bergamot and Allegheny Sun

I hear a storm overhead yet the sun is shining.
My head rests on the grass. My friends and neighbors
are tombstones and mausoleums.
People whom I’ve never known.
Byers, Bindley, Darlington.

You’re as far away from me now as I am
when I’m lying on your chest.
I am here and you are somewhere else.

The storm has broken with the ferocity of my mind.
Rain mixes with tears.
I can blend in now with other people.

I lift my head now from the grass,
My hair damp with the smell of the earth.
I turn over to look into your eyes.
I wonder where you are.
I wonder if I’m somewhere there with you.

back to issue

Anna Kuszajewski is a Pittsburgh-area writer, model, and vintage collector. Her fiction has appeared previously in Turk's Head Review.