Her raspberry sweater

matched her lip gloss;

in red boots she glided

past bushes with bright berries.

Keeping on her outerwear,

she waited after signing in.

Shifting in her seat,

she fumbled with her phone,

then stared out the window

where icicles framed

the trees, birds, and squirrels

fording the leaves

for food—dark rough bark.

She dreamed of him

for a while, remembered

and played back scenes

in her mind like a worn-

thin movie, a scratched

soundtrack.

Love’s bundled experiences

break away like sticks, the images

floating into the clouds,

drifting away,

since all was over

and there were no

reinforcements.

 

Maura Gage Cavell is Professor of English and Director of the Honors Program at Louisiana State University Eunice.  She resides in Crowley, LA, with her family.  She’s recently published in journals and magazines including Abbey, Louisiana Literature, Carnival Magazine, Clark Street Review, and Westward Quarterly.