Rose-gold sunbeams set the autumn trees ablaze
under skies consumed by the pouring rain,
mind obscured in a silver haze.
I search for glimpses in the rearview mirror
and hold open the palms of my hand out the window
hoping to catch drops of nostalgia
that quench my soul like water.
I see drive by memories
strewn apart by the wind
and buried deep in muddy waters.
They swirl apart the tattered pages in my mind
but dissipate quickly on the tongue.
I try to capture phantoms in a glass bottle
but memories are not wine,
they don’t get richer as they age.
They haunt me,
and as seasons die
I try to dig up their bodies –
© Copyright Samantha Rose 2018
You can catch more of Samantha existing at her blog, Existential Poetry.