Mind the pockmarks on the road
Every dip just slings my memories back to a time
Where you and I were
Perfectly remote
And I had a brown carpet
The color of wet bark
Crawling with fleas
Pausing scenes
To peel them off me
Distracted from someone's mythology
When I had
A red vest
They gave me
So I wouldn't get shot
But I never
I swear to you
Never thought about it
Just as long as I could be alone
I sang myself in circles and
Stared down a bull and
Climbed all the trees that still smoked with lightning scars
In a world without
Anyone
Listening
Author Bio:
Noel Wallace is a writer, translator, and poet. Born and raised in Dallas, Texas, her passion for writing was kindled at a very young age. After graduation from university, she spent four years living abroad in Japan. There, she taught English at over twelve Japanese secondary schools. Achieving fluency in Japanese, she eventually became an official lecturer and children's book translator for Tokyo Red Cross.
She returned to America in 2015, but still manages to embark on the occasional adventure. In 2016, she traveled to South Korea to write and became involved in volunteer efforts against animal abuse.
Her English poetry and prose has been published in the Tyler Laurel, Hello Horror, and Quantum Fairy Tales.