I’m still waiting for the winter that obliterates the insects, the bugs that have taken over since last summer, adding to the pre-existing onslaught brought on by summers before.
Moments all jumbled together in time, making memories blurred and truths distorted like ill-gotten evidence ruined by double exposure.
A matriarch unknowingly dropped her mask of impartial objectivity, the judgement scowl now displayed behind closed doors and evident to familiar guests
A true slip of coverlet worn for decades produced a shocking blow, but substantiated a longstanding theory…. Her voice whispered “You’re not who I wanted you to be.”
The skittering pests previously once gathered under the smiling shroud of unseasonal warmth have been freed to viciously attack dogged leaves.
I witnessed a fleeting notion of defeat deep within but the notion flitted away, and the leaves held stubbornly, determined.
The oily mask still tries to affix to the unhidden scowl but the coverlet has been devoured by the infestation.
I’m still waiting for the frost to slay the insects and return the deceiving veil to recall at season before the photo exposure and true nature stopped the winter.
Created: Jun 23, 2017aMillionJens Document Media