Michael Quigg (Bio)
it was a forest with not enough trees.
it was a dream on an old carriage.
do you remember the autumn sleep?
the sky was purple and the grass was black
the setting of a nightmare, at first glance.
how should i have known?
but your face, so pale and tinted by a grin,
promised a breezy flight over gravel road
that splits the woods in two.
like broken spirals, we passengers dance with every bump.
cracked wood and creaky wheels
and the sky was purple and the moon was bright.
i was laughing and cheering with the others.
i think you were laughing too.
we were side by side.
we were not together.
the choir sensed the swelling and matched our speed.
you planted a kiss, thinner than washi, on my cheek.
i was silenced by your smile, and had not realized
that the cart had stopped in time and we were flying
dissonant, but happy.