Afterimage - Claire Kroening

Frost prints the windowpanes in little cats-feet. A crawl towards October hills, yet rooted in place. Dewdrops drooping flowers; the last cusp of honeysuckle twisted into weaving stalks. A hollow reminder of the dreary-cold— come and gone before noon showers.

He stamped regret by the stairwell. Black ink sealing where locks couldn't reach. Ever-stilled, wrapped crescent stitch, statued upon Silicon Valley. An image captured across racing trains— come and gone amongst the crowd of ordinary.

Clouds, blazing with ornate castles and clashing-thyme, ignite star-splattered eyes. October hills forget, for November to come again. The walls merry where her words stumble over. A last ditch effort. An afterimage of forever.