Issue 8,  Poetry

On a Bench by the Waters of Oblivion by E. Samples

I sit beside you, stranger
And wait
A once-filled mind
My black sunflower seeds
Now half sown

Introductions are necessary 
I’m terrible with names
We met before, you say
The hillside, sanctuary 
Classroom, dinner table
To name a few

Muted voices
Screen-strained loneliness
Anxiety and doubt
Windows shuttered
I drain the glass and wipe
Water droplets from my mouth

I don’t answer you, stranger
And think
One final static loop
The taste of forgetting
Gray distorts to golden
Summer symphony

You smile
Do I sense sadness
You say, it’s ok
We always meet again


E. Samples was born and raised in Appalachia and currently lives in Southern Indiana. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Vamp Cat Mag, fws: a journal of literature & art, Black Bough Poetry, The Stillwater Review, and The Honest Ulsterman. She is on Twitter @emilysamples and Instagram @eesamples

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