Slow Meadows
Updated: Dec 5, 2018
By Pangaea; Sara Gamble
I found life delicately
veiled underneath
my spine
all curled up
she felt like winter
and slow meadows.
A drifting flight risk
coated in burgundy
lipstick and saliva.
There I was breathing.
Fluid.
I watched the only raft
in the river back home
float away
so there I sat
wearing rose and
crescent silver moonlight,
whispering to dandelions
and licking thunderstorms.
Part silhouette,
part cold-blooded creature
weeping for a warm
place to fall.
Pangaea is an upcoming writer who enjoys the art of story telling. Her poems are mostly about existence, sadness, and imagination. Writing helps her a lot to process certain emotions and express them in a beautiful way. She is based in South Florida where she is writing her first book of poetry and working as a chef releasing her own handcrafted line this winter.