A Tintype Day

of hurricanes and tangled fairy lights

By Ellie HoovsPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

The day started with a Hurricane.

They say it's good luck,

rain on a wedding day,

but the sky was gray.

Puddles reflecting the somber tone

amongst the asphalt,

a tintype of melancholy.

Amongst the monochrome

streams of color were hung,

banners of cranberry

and rose gold,

waging war against the disconsolate sky,

My hands essayed

the hanging of fairy lights

on a white tent

in the garden made marsh,

but the twinkling orbs

stranded on copper wire,

were a torturous labyrinthine

that never

came

undone

Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.

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