Shannon Spollen

Three Poems – Shannon Spollen

Shannon Spollen is a teacher and adventure enthusiast in the Capital Region. She has recently relocated to upstate New York from Long Island and has been writing since she could hold a pen. Shannon received her B.A. in English from the University at Albany, where she minored in Communications and Women’s Studies, and her M.S. in Education and TESOL from Molloy College. You can find more of Shannon’s work at writingthewronsx.weebly.com.

 

Get Home Safe

“Leaving so soon?”
How many times
had I heard that line?
But there was something about
the arch of this eyebrows
and the way his mouth
clicked against syllables
as if he were sharpening his tongue
on the roof of his mouth
as he asked
And I thought about saying
“No.
No, I’ll stay.”
But I am not who I was
And he is not what I need
So I gripped the car door
smiling behind me,
“Get home safe.”

 

Swallow the Sun

We take life too seriously
I want to swallow the sun
let it illuminate me from the inside out
Shine on all the darkest parts of you
expose them
touch them
crawl inside them and ease the hollow
I want to let it ooze out of my mouth
and onto the floor
Stumbling on the way down
like drunken sailors
But loose lips sink ships
and I have waved my last surrender
I want to swallow the sun
so that it warms me
I am so cold, so dense
I want to melt
Expand into the crevices and disappear
Evaporate into the air
so I know what it feels like
to be caught in your breath
I want to catch fire
Burn, burn, burn with such intensity
it hurts your eyes to look
It hurts your heart to see
But isn’t it beautiful?
Aren’t I beautiful?
Ashes and all?
I want to swallow the sun
But you don’t take me seriously

 

Beneath the Willow Tree

She’s been missing for a year now
All hope has been deserted
She’d been running from forgiveness
And those that don’t deserve it

I found her ‘neath the willow tree
Braiding flowers in her hair
She turned her neck and smiled at me,
“You know it’s not polite to stare.”

There was innocence about her
Dangling toes about the rabbit hole
And it was springtime in her eyes
But I saw winter in her soul

I asked her why she came here
Dismissing expectation in my haste
She lifted her head and most sincere
Simply gazed upon my face

“Broken love and broken bells,” she said,
“well they both ring bittersweet.”
Then just like every time before
She ascended to her feet

I didn’t call her name
I didn’t reach out for her hand
Like the tides that fight the moon
She was searching for dry land

She’s been missing for a year now
But I still see her there
Beneath the willow tree
Braiding flowers in her hair