Summer
As a little girl, I didn't
know what I could be.
Nobody knew.
I remember that summer in
the farmhouse in Tennessee,
the one where I learned to
play guitar. I melted in the
sun and took cold showers and
ate too many popsicles.
Life back then was a map uncharted,
unpredictable like a tangle of
overgrown wild roses.
It still is.
I'll never forget that.
*****
Needs revision, but it's got potential. It was partly inspired by Miranda Lambert's "The House That Built Me," which is one of my favorite songs.
3 comments:
What do you plan to revise? It looks good to me. :) <3
i'd like to see a little more description. maybe of the farm house or the way the guitar felt...hmm
@Georgie: I feel like the story isn't complete, like there's more to tell but I'm just restraining myself. It was written in a hurry, and there definitely are some lines I would like to pull...it needs some work for sure.
@Jessie: Yeah, I was thinking about that. It's a really loose draft, so after April when I get cracking on the revision there will be some pretty major changes to this piece if I decide to revise it at all - I think I might take a few of the good lines in this and use them elsewhere. Thanks for your constructive criticism, though!
Post a Comment