Midas Healed

Here, out under the yellow umbrella
In front of scaled bushes speckled green,
Shoulders upright and poised for battle,

I will find you
Shooing flies away from your purse.
Breath in my lungs, my judgment is held.

The fly attacks me, dodging my clumsy 
kicks with buzzing expertise.
It will win this war under nylon sun.

I wanted to be graceful for you,
Not burdened with Dickinson flies
Ruining and creating me.

The smile on your face, 
Warmed by the lemony shadow, also
Turns your skin sallow.

I am safe here, outside its reach

Where we don't touch.

My bus leaves behind me.
Your poise breaks like a storm.
The Dickinson fly finds the couple 

Under the yellow umbrella
Next to us.
My feet walk into amber,

Settling next to yours.
Gold makes your blue eyes pop--
Sunshine sinking into salty waves.

I smile, soft and open;
A broken storm.
Your name crests on my tongue.

By Madeleine C.