Scarlett Watters

I remember apple trees with brilliant blossoms of pink and white in the spring with tears of petals like feathers when it rained

I remember nothing when the sun was out, when little men wrote poetry of oceanic forms and sinister things

I remember the brown and blue of the sky and mud, mud so thick and yet runny purple hues of lost money

I remember dancing butterflies with purple wings of splendor, little known things of much distraction where attraction means more or less depending on what syllables you stress

I remember the cooeing of the morning dove with its smooth surrendering sound which is now replaced by the water of my fish tank and the beep beep beep beep beep beep beep of some truck in the distance backing up probably a dump truck or a lunch truck or a no fun today truck red white and blue shut up truck with no more importance than this pen truck because without me this pen would be dump

still I am the words on this page, not the tools I use