The lost and found
If found please return to—
The sunsets and rises
While she walks aimlessly
Uncertain
Of where to go
Of what to do
Time passes her by in seconds
Everything the same
Lost and unknowing
Of who to go to
Of how to find her way home again
If found please return to—
Baggage claim
Smudged ink for a return address
Watching all who came before her
unsuspecting
Of who they follow
Of what they want
A familiar hand
A face long forgotten
Whispering and telling
Of tales from her past
Of where she belongs
If found please return to—
Expectations that fade away
Her glazed over eyes become clear again
Showing her all
Of what she’s missed
Of those who awaited her return
They ask her with sweet kisses
Where have you been?
Did you find what you were looking for?
Welcome home they say
With tears soaking her shirt
We’ve missed you
Aura aloud
Just as the cloud covered sun begins to rise,
rolling fog the color of your cigarette smoke—
coats the lake below.
My feet dangle over the dock—
with just a simple touch, the water
ripples. The smell of morning dew overwhelms the air
the way the smell of old denim does—
when being held by you.
Time slows, the water is glass
And I—am floating to you, to all of you.
The autumn breeze wisps the golden leaves away,
every step, a purpose.
The cup of apple cider burns
but I bring it to my lips anyway.
A bell chimes—
the leaves follow.
From the old man in the corner
sifting through the classics,
to the naïve boy searching for THE record,
the one that will introduce him to the power—
of rock and roll.
The old record store holds it all now
The love that matters
in the lyrics of songs long forgotten.
Records of the greats line the shelves,
stopping time in its tracks.
And the smell,
God, the smell
Nostalgia and ancient rice paper
Street lights fly past in a streak of lightning
The windows are rolled down
letting in the unforgiving wind and
the smell of gas with a hint of cinnamon.
The urge to fly,
the urge to be free overwhelms the heart,
the soul—
The temptation to hang out the window takes over,
Half of me is safe in the passenger seat,
the other half can feel that wind—
leaving tangles in my hair.
It’s dangerous,
I know.
With cars passing near inches from my split ends,
without a care in the world
time—somehow—slows down
at 80 miles per hour
so close to falling
but I’ve never felt more safe.
***
These specks of moments—
these memories, pass us by.
Without a second glance,
they seem irrelevant.
Just another day but—
they are you.
The calm, the blast back in time,
the freedom, and most importantly—
time stopping altogether.
They are the unspoken emotions.
One day—I will tell,
I will be brave enough—
to tell about all of the moments,
the emotions your presence gives.
But not today,
nor tomorrow.
For I am not brave enough to tell your aura aloud.
Your song
I never thought a voice could catch me
The way that your’s does
I lose my breath when I hear you
my heart doesn’t quicken
It slows
Matching the rhythm of a song
That leaves quarter notes along the soul
I fall into a different world
When I hear you
A world where time doesn’t measure
But has sixteenth notes tying all beings
That God composes
The power of music flows through me
When I hear you
The power that only He can gift
Every syllable, a chord
Every mention of my name, a riff
Leaving my fingertips numb
From trying to match
The harmony
you create
When you say I love you
Jay Morgan is a senior undergraduate at the University of North Dakota. As an English major, she has loved exploring the world of literature, especially gaining an understanding of different poetic tropes from every era. In her own poetry, she strives to dive deeper into specific themes in order to build a connection with every reader and force an emotional or mental response from them. One day, she hopes to publish her own book of poetry and be an editor for a small press.