| Hidden in a Cloud Masterpiece 1 Sifting watered down cotton in my mind, I stare at my blue canvas, trying to find that masterpiece painted by an invisible hand. I�m frustrated while the wind, walking with that jaunty sway, drags trails of fluff behind him. The fresh mowed carpet beneath my back comforts me as I pick from the air cottontail rabbits, ice dragons, billowing sails. 2 Metal echoes slap against concrete breaking the heat-induced trance driven by the whispering in my ears. The grating call of the Mocking Bird scratches at me ears as it lifts my mind from the darkness of her last breaths, sunshine glittering off her decay riddled teeth. 3 Sexual hostility behind her kidnapper�s every action, the reasons for that sudden lack of breath are incomprehensible. Memory is stained with turbulence that time felt when every pore screamed for relief, none coming in Kristen�s final hour. Like the shadow clings to the form, her face haunts me. Closure should have come with the twisting of the Morning Glory petals at night; Something was wrong with my petals� Thoughts did not lie dormant as the light faded. My mind remained wide and running, tripping over the occasional thought like a runner stumbling over stones. Breeding in the darkness, festering in the sunlight buzzing like the pestilence called �Fly,� grief consumed my heart as saline drops consumed my eyes. Lost in the rippling motions I wondered if time would remain disturbed by Kristen�s death. 4 Years fall away like browning lily leaves. The killer was caught in his pride like the weakened spider that becomes snared in its own web. Kristen�s memory doesn�t rub so roughly now, not like the bark against my back. 5 I roll over again cradled by cool green hands of grass, my concentration caught by the shifting white masses overhead. The master painter took his brush and dipped it in life�s turbulent colors, smearing them across the sky. Kristen isn�t gone� I found the master piece. There�s her face between the rabbit, dragon, and sail. |