I sauntered into a fairy-tale
in the midst of the night
and most of the fairies were asleep.
subtle glow of fireflies
and the crashing of the breeze.
Evolving current beneath cemented steps, causeways and causes colliding
a' ways down the riverbend.
What should be childhood nostalgia comes upon me blank.
Slate slated grey as I watch a child grow another millimetre each time I blink my eyes
soprano lashes and laughter fading away with sunlight
disguised by wafer-thin
wavering sheets of ice.
Things are a changin'
as blues would sing, as rock n' roll would lament
as ripe and empty
milkweed shivers, joints limber and crackling.
A place I never called home, but echoed in me,
unable to remit.
copper dust in silver and auburn, coffee-burnt pupils
mornings never silent, a perpetual hum that drones
when meant to wake slowly and early and reprieved.
Music I never cared for now hits a vibration. Comatose creaking.
Organs yawning and dusty shaking residue frost
patient for daybreak to taint ivory canvases with sunburn,
a smattering of freckles
a friend who may return with laughter now chapped and mellow.
tenured, a foreword to affinity ever closer to spring.
The most breathtaking recollections
have always incriminated
Sierra Duffey is a queer writer and photographer in Montreal, Quebec. Through sassy poetry and colourful photographs, Sierra explores topics such as psychology, love, cults and spirituality and nature. Her work has been published in PACE Magazine, Lantern Magazine and flo. She also performs at several poetry readings and open mics.