By Bluegrass

[Deor Ana Log]

Nestled in freckles,
my pocket eyes are green
Mom told me, some colors
Are made for reading
not changing 
words
but I can’t help it,
but slip over pebbles
 like how that river
makes an ocean
by the tune of bluegrass

I was 5 years old once
I took a knife and was
an etch in a cedar sapling
Now I drag my pinky
In those ridges until
My hands realize
the nickname only
dad remembers

In green I spent
A lifetime
Or 5 minutes
Truth is a heartbeat
because turning 6 feels like 
the end
and an escape
that will never
ask you when