muses

the dirty-kneed little girl, orange and yellow striped t-shirt. dusty arms and tangled hair. she hunts around the world for treasure and secret things, she holds hands and cozies up with all manner of creatures in the crook of an old root's elbow.

and the one who is older, much older, with her long silver hair. she waits and watches and remembers. she glows with wisdom and kind eyes there on the side of the road, just so, just here. c'mere she says and her fingers are long and knuckly, with raised veins all the way up her arms. c'mere she says and she wears a white dress and turquoise stones and the little one comes to her c'mere and we all three must ride. there is sun and setting and the horizon with any number of beginnings and they walk me through it, dirty-kneed and silver-haired, they walk me through it and we find the things together. and every finding is a deep well of rejoicing, another story to lay on the pile, old stones heavy on top so the wind won't bluster them away.



(freewrite: who is your muse? 5 minutes)