SEIZURE IN THE BACK YARD
Wisps of darkness wrapped
around my spine and wrung
like a bullwhip winding around a fencepost,
but I fell away from myself
into a deep light
that seized my shadow-world and shook it
until it shredded like live Lazarus's shroud.
into some hiding place among the bushes,
and I was madly conscious of a prayer holding me,
a sprig of life left behind among last year’s dead leaves.
I returned to myself,
ever after quick to question
all things shadow-like,
those sheets of gossamer
doomed to fray.
Holly Wells lives in Mississippi and has taught both high school and community college English. As a writer, she is interested in examining the truth that lies
within many of life's paradoxes. Her poetry has been published in The Copperfield Review, Torrid Literature Journal, TWJ Magazine, and Sehnsucht.