flashlight

a poem by zachary olson

i have waterlogged memories
of pine needles & cones layered
like a sprawling rainforest lasagna
& wearing three pairs of socks
to ward off the creeping dampness
of midautumn’s cruel fingertips
as i watched hot ash pirouette
against a black silver sky
drifting & lifting itself into makeshift
constellations w/ winged termites
fat from summer’s fallen rot
struggling to stay afloat as i
struggled to stay awake
in the arms of childhood