From “Rocks”
The little pieces you picked up.
The little pieces you carried once
in your hands,
held next to your body,
smeared onto your skin,
tugging at you:
the fragments you hold on to—
the ones you did not want to leave behind.
Tag / weathered souls
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Spring’s Resurrection”
April’s not the cruelest month,
but a warm resurrection.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Severed Roots”
But the rainy season never came
and the drought never left.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Weeds”
as I scraped back bare soil—
the earth I once remembered—
the remnants of what I started with.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Pollen”
To be that puff that resides opposite,
away from you,
in the world.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Crabapples”
You hear the buzzing
and see the yellow jackets
as they sting your feet
and suddenly,
you notice the present world,
and toss the bitter apple into the street drain,
bidding the uninvited guest to go away.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Snowflakes”
My bleached hands
are full of snowflakes I cupped,
that bleed of chemicals they steep.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Sun”
molten rock to your core,
depleting you,
thrusting you out of a drunken state,
awake
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Commuter’s Tears”
Oil rainbows evaporated in the rain,
leaving only the memory behind.
Excerpt: Weathered Fragments, Weathered Souls
From “Fog”
Fog rises over the river.
Hands close over headlights,
luring the sleepy back to bed.
J.L. Smith 