I feel the dull scratch of the pencil as the letters fall onto the page without thought; bird song, cars whizzing by, an ambulance in the distance, the boy in his red chequered shorts, the feel of the breeze, grey clouds that hint at rain, your lips that constantly begged to be kissed, tyres squelching, taz, that time on the motorway when the car window fell out and darkness seeped in, that stroke, the ache, indifference, the sun that seeps through the leaves as I sit at the kitchen window, leaves, memories, walking in autumn fantasies, truths shared, a full moon a rising sun. When I am done I glance back over it, momentarily enjoying my thoughts of you. I turn my pencil up the other way and I erase you from the page. No matter how hard I erase, a shadow of you always remains.
Karen Hayward ©2016