Something Yellow (Best) by Corynn Bernhardt

Something Yellow

By Corynn Bernhardt

Part I

If October is like the first gust

of wind that knocks your hair back,

Makes you pull your jacket in tighter,

Like the pop and scrapes of

dead leaves already crumbled,

Like orange, red, and yellow bursts

that sets the trees alight

with an explosion of energy and promise.

Then May is like the first beam

of heat through the tree limbs.

Fresh leaves have grown in,

But still the sun penetrates.

Like the flipping of sandals

and pedals on bikes.

Like the trees set ablaze with

orange, red, and yellow flame,

Ruining those new leaves,

Their ashes falling beneath,

On top of their old roots.

They lay the ground for new growth.

Earlier today, two yellow

lines were never ending

down the middle of my journey.

Two white lines, opposing

each other, keeping me on-track.

The surrounding world preaching

promise, and promising

Danger. The tree tops litter and line

the sky above. I encounter a deer

stand motionless in the surprise existence.

Her eyes as frozen as a yellow

pond in Michigan in the middle of January.

And this, too, has left me

on the ground, flat on my back.

Reminisce on the memory.

That bright yellow sun: hot and burning.

Bright rays stinging: blinding me.

Yet I still run forward, my feet

carrying me towards a person I

thought I knew, bark chips giving way.

But that yellow bar smashing the

bridge of my nose had a different

plan. Flung around like a

two-year-old’s toy, I lay dazed

on my back, bark chips giving way.

Only one shoe still intact.

The other: tired of walking my feet

and finally got the chance to get away.

How my nose aches.

Tears mixing with blood and anguish.

Where did my friend go?

Once in a dream, I was being chased.

You can never run fast enough

when someone is chasing you.

Running as if underwater.

Breathing as if no air.

Heavy, gasping, searching.

The surface getting too far away,

Getting closer to the bottom,

The bad guy closes in.

I never wake up.

Was it a dream?

Part II

I never thought life could be like

Always staring up at the ceiling.

Seemingly holding onto

something, close and personal.

Maybe even good. Handsome and strong.

But I never see what it is.

Instead of facing the eyes

of whom I hold on to,

I turn my head up, and

let my hair fall back between

my shoulder blades.

Never surrendering, just avoiding.

I never thought I could smile

while feeling all of this.

I don’t think I’m feeling, though,

just reacting.

A smile to hide the things

I don’t know and don’t want to

admit. A smile to share a feeling

I don’t have, a connection we

don’t share. Who is fooling who?

Believe me, what happened next

was something I’m not proud of.

The worst thing you ever said to me

was when you said nothing at all.

The worst thing you never told me

were the things I told myself.

I can’t be left alone in a room

with my own thoughts.

These days, I feel like I

could never dance again.

How the body contours and shapes

our emotions, creating lines

of poetry with my arms. Singing songs

with my feet. Saying I love you

with my eyes. I forgive you

with a turn. I’m leaving you,

with an exit stage left.

Listen. Knock, knock.

Someone is at the door.

Hello?

What if it was someone

Who had all the answers?

Someone who knew your story.

Someone who listened.

Someone who loved you.

Do you know them?

What if it was God?

Would you answer?

This place we’re in now

is no place at all.

The life you’ve always wanted,

The things you’ve lacked,

Peace you’ve sought.

He will give to you there.

All you have to do is

Open the door and

Listen.

Once in October,

unlike every other October,

My little brother was born.

I remember that day,

looking up at the bursting colors

of reds and oranges and yellows

on the tree tops outside,

when he came into this world.

My world. Cold, crumbling leaves

littered the sidewalks then.

I sat in the hospital room,

Unknowingly, waiting for

my life to change.

But it’s not October, it’s May,

Those trees are still aflame,

Like in every other May.

Everything it breathes its yellow

breath on, it brings down in ashes.

Gently, it lays the foundation

of something unthought-of,

unpredictable, unborn.

Splendor and potential.

It’s only May, but why not

Set yourself on fire, burn away

All the life you don’t need,

Like the trees do when they dissolve

away and sacrifice themselves for the Earth.

October will come around once

more, when your flames

will turn into majesty

and your ashes into the

foundation for something new.