..
and all those other things that happened in
Texas. This one small world is vast enough
for what I want to say. Forget the way she
smiled as you were leaving; her eyes are
lies no one has ever learned to tame. Forget
the loss, the brilliant bullied cost of wonder
-ing what else this moon might etch upon
her face. Forget the towers; the way they fell,
no Rapunzel hair to save them. Forget the
wars the cries the long and tangled dying and
the way the world keeps trying to save her
-self the wrong way. Forget the tears, the fears
the blood and sweat and stain. Forget the
fight. The flight is all that matters in the end.
.
Prompted by Poetic Asides.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Hey! I’M from Texas. 😉
My father-in-law calls me the Yellow Rose of Texas every time he introduces me to anyone. It’s super adorable. Plus, I love yellow roses.
1) I love this poem.
2) I super-love this: “her eyes are lies no one has ever learned to tame” … That’s some of the best poetry I’ve ever read, ma’am.
3) This is just … wow:
“the loss, the brilliant bullied cost of wonder
-ing what else this moon might etch upon
her face. Forget the towers; the way they fell,
no Rapunzel hair to save them. Forget the
wars the cries the long and tangled dying and
the way the world keeps trying to save her
-self the wrong way.”
4) And the way you ended with “flight,” which means different things, of course.
You. are brilliant, missy.
You are too kind, Yellow Rose. 😉
This is very philos0phical in that memory is always suspect anyway – always biased in some way, being based on perspective, after all. And this brings to mind the way memory can be painful sometimes – when it reminds us of loss. And yes, in the end what matter is the flight – if we were able to take a flight, how far, how long, how successful – away from all the memories.