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a roadtrip of felled resurrection/reconnection


the requiem of spring is a mordent in

                                      pitches of aureate nimbi and thundering magma;

           it’s obsidian that grates against the rough callouses of

                 graying artisans who swelter below hollowed pavilions

                        in midsummer, bronze-skinned and untiring, their

wood chips are ethereal clay to mold into aesthetic ether,

tailor-made for higher melodies,

                     soliloquy on the twelfth opening night as the oratorio leaps

in fervent grace, breathing drafty spirits into a sordid aria

            like the jukebox warbling on her secondhand playlist as

                                               we coast aimlessly along waterfront I-95,

                                  staring at your gossamer-tinted reflection in the car window and

                                                overlooking graffiti mired against deserted freights below –

in the trunk, dad’s welding kit roused forth with clunky groans;

                                      adjacent, my sheet music is pleated between crumpling

                                      stage play scripts, sheltered in good faith from mellow foliage

       and ruby-throated mirth, an incandescent flicker buoyant over

 the wick of terracotta flush and/or postponed (im)possibilities

                for the edge of tomorrow this family has not yet un(dis)covered

Rachel Xu is a high school student who enjoys reading, writing, sketching, and playing badminton in her free time. She has been published in various anthologies such as Hysteria, Live Poets Society of NJ, Poetic Power, Academy Press, Teen Ink, etc.

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