The kind of green that hurts my eyes:
pale and useless against the dark.
The seats were slick with summer’s graces.
and jumping –
we couldn’t help but jump –
we traded breath for music.
soprano cast in green.
I’ll hold the wheel and wait,
lending pause to thought
and thought to hurricane,
while hoping that the interlude allows
for a fly-by.
An unconfirmed sighting:
a sweet, if not imagined
brush of fingers, dumb in the dark
and a strand of hair (also lost to the music)
that looked absolutely perfect in green.
I got the whole thing on tape.
Timothy Tarkelly is a student in National University’s MFA program. He has published stories (Wild Rose Press, Cover of Darkness) and poems (Lycan Valley Press, Fourth & Sycamore. Two of his short films became official selections at independent film festivals, with one winning “Outstanding Low Budget” at ZedFest 2013.