Today, you barefoot the path to a place you’ve always known. You taste the ghosts of tea leaves
as you head east through the glimmering meadow, hearing laughter echo in the empty fields.
You mind the marigolds waving, the waves of grass tails shimmering; but you don’t smile.
You’re all dressed up for a family gathering, iron pressed slacks on this Sunday morning. You
wear the shirt your father used to douse in his smell-good, bringing his collar to your nose in
between breaths. You used to sing to the birds on days like these, run with that girl named Daisy
in the fields. Your mother loved her rosy aroma–her love for spring-time gardens and freckled
You find the building you intend to see, wood sides abloom with butterfly weeds–the roof’s
smiling mouth drinking sunlight. The front door hangs open for the wadded furniture to breathe.
A house of screams now an ecosystem of dust. You nudge a rock, thinking what it’d be like to
kick down the walls, see the whole place collapse.
There on the porch, your grandfather’s rickety rocking chair eases back. You used to sit in it
after he’d keep it warm some Saturday nights. You sit in it now, not wiping at the fresh pollen,
not minding the webs and chipped wood. From here, you watch the pulsing of summer winds
and flowers flaking in the distance.
The worst memories
may flicker on the best days.
Currently attending Mississippi State University as a full-time student, Kurdarius Keyes is currently majoring in Fine Arts and minoring in Creative Writing. In his free-time, he loves to read fantasy novels and write short stories. In art, he hones his artistic abilities with dry media, drawing still-lives, portraits and surrealistic pieces. He’s an aspiring author, perpetually working to improve his writing skills and his keenness in business and marketing. In the literary world, his references range from Tracey Deonn, TJ Klune and others like Steven King. He hopes to become a house-hold name and have his stories and art widely recognized.