I Don’t Know How to Let You Go

Your sneakers,
your flannel,
these grapes
that snow.

You’re too strong
for these chocolate shavings,
teenage years. Your leather
jacket stings. I know.

I dream of gingerbread
and lipstick liquor, abandoned
shopping carts and lack
-luster things.

It’s a trick, this flick. I’ve got it
licked. But your armchair
roses

……………..sing.
 

 

.

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7 Responses to I Don’t Know How to Let You Go

  1. whimsygizmo says:

    Fun inspiration from my Shawna.

  2. karifrances says:

    I would love to hear the rhyming in this poem as you read it.
    It’s begging to be read out loud!

  3. I love the randomness all sewn together with de magic and again as usual, for me, your closing especially speaks! XO

  4. Shawna says:

    To me, this is about a grown woman talking to her teenaged self, missing being youthful but also appreciating all she has now, as she sits in her rose-colored chair writing poems. 🙂

  5. Or maybe she just caught the Gingerbread man! 🙂

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