By Juliette Sebock


The walk was dangerous,

even crazy,

but I needed to absorb the energy

whipping in the wind.


It didn’t rain non-stop,

but in bursts of buckets

pouring off my skin.

Then the bucket would drop down

into the well of the earth again.


My shoes, feet, legs,

were coated in mud

like the antithesis of

rolling out pie crust.


I told myself it was okay to cry

between strikes of light, sparking the sky.

But when I tried, I found only coins

pressed against the whites of my eyes.


Juliette Sebock is the author of Mistakes Were Made and has work forthcoming or appearing in a wide variety of publications.  She is the founding editor of Nightingale & Sparrow and runs a lifestyle blog, For the Sake of Good Taste.  When she isn’t writing (and sometimes when she is), she can be found with a cup of coffee and her cat, Fitz.  Juliette can be reached on her website or across social media

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