Back Over the Hill

Lilla Frerichs

Back Over the Hill 

Oh yes just a gimmick – she thinks as trains of

images clatter through to tease - hypnotizing her

with loosed chickens of lust clucking cacophony

on-the-other-side-of-the-road – here, over the hill – 
her flesh scratchy-sere, demanding truth from purring
 lotion-potion promises - sweet words to halt the torture machine

in which she fell - entangled, snared as surely

as a worker-bee's uniform caught in the gears – this lotion-

potion sure to loose her from the liquor non-sense of this

suddenly slack body, these veiny hands, this wrinkled brow, 
these tired eyes suddenly lifting in hope born 
on the scent of lavender lotion massaging in backward circles- 
as all quiets – chickens and trains fall still, and she 
inhales deeply - 
eyes closing, closing - closed
 falling back 
into her true -self
on a sigh 
smiling  

~

The Sunday Whirl