Peripheral Vision

I realized, a broken windshield too late,

the poignancy of my situation. As I picked


the broken glass out of my hair, I paused

to consider, how moments before impact


I was staring at the water droplets collected

on my side window, wondering if I could


balance one on top of a pin. Just how long

it would sit there before bursting. I watched


that one drop shatter into a hundred more

as they danced around my head. Ah! I was


an astronaut, just before the black, floating

against all comprehension. Trusting twisted


metal to keep me intact…

When I awoke, I still felt nothing.


Blind terror is a monster too massive

to comprehend. We must look to its sides,


tunneling deep into obscurity. Swallowing

it to lock in subconscious dungeons requires


a precise concentration. You must succeed

in blocking out all but the minutest, most


irrelevant details and blowing them up until they

can block out something the size of the sun.


The petals caught the wind,

drifted slowly and came to rest


atop my Mother’s

wooden box.


I wondered, vacantly

how long they could


possibly keep

under so much dirt.


© 2017 Kristina Moulaison

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