MONTAGE

The Day I Found Rusty
Molly Herzog

Looking out the car window,
all there was to see for miles were farms.
Grass swaying,
waltzing to a song I couldn't hear.

The building is brick, inviting, small.
A flowerless garden made me feel at home.
The doorway,
invited me, called out my name.

The scent hit me,
the sound startled me,
the sight,
the sight.

He had fur so white like a fresh sheet of paper,
brown spots like wet sand beneath your feet.
His eyes, drawing me in,
eager, hopeful, scared, alone.

It was then,
that very moment we locked eyes,
that I knew,
he would be mine.

Mask
Molly Herzog

Hanging from the ceiling
swaying and turning,
as vibrant as the day my
father surprised me,
returning after what felt
like forever to my young mind,
I reminisce now looking at
the dog-like gift,
yet I feel a pang because
he is far away once again.

The First Time I Heard Owl City
Molly Herzog

My eyes grew larger than the moon. Air rushed into my lungs like a waterfall, yet I was still breathless. I had never imagined anything so intensely dreamy. Not even during my deepest slumbers. His words swam to my ears, fish swaying through the ocean. So unfathomable, so lovely. Every sound lifted me up and I stayed there, floating with euphoria. While swirling around in midair I felt unreal, but so indefinitely complete.

Painted Nails
Molly Herzog

Sitting on the couch looking at
the bright polish as it captivates you,
choosing one, you shake the bottle
then twist the lid, the smell
hits you like a gust of wind that's
strong enough to mess up your hair.

Pull up the lid, revealing the brush,
polish drips and you wipe the excess,
as you lay out your hand like
you intend to draw its outline.

Take the brush and paint your first
nail, yell at your dog to stop sniffing
you, move on to the next nail.

Now all your nails are freshly
painted, as shiny as the metal
on the nail clippers.

Until they dry, as dry as skin
in the winter, don't touch
anything, smudges are the
enemy here, don't say I didn't
warn you, in fact, just act
as if you have no hands.

Dear Trixie
Molly Herzog

I have to tell you, I'm mad.
Furious.
I have never loathed someone so intensely
in my life. She had no right.
Slithering her way in and erasing
you from my eyes forever.
The thoughts of you, your presence
still lingers of course. Memories
just floating in the air for me to crash into.
I wish for closure.
Relief.
I'm hoping this goodbye will be more successful
than all the pennies I've tossed in the fountain.
I love you dearly, and I hope you have
the greenest grass on that side.