Halcyon Dream

The trees stood like bones,

halcyon days with rain pouring down your

burning cheeks

you’re like a furnace he said,

rebirth came second to last –

the penultimate moment

nails scratch the chalkboard.

Isn’t it absurd,

the sound it makes?

wash it away with water,

let the chalk slip away

from you.

Ridiculous how idyllic it was,

sitting there by the river,

smelling like rain.

You always loved to dance

with droplets running down your body

By Maia Coen