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Hannah Tanager


Casper, WY, US

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Hannah Tanager

the wind,
though screaming through
the bright afternoon,
whispers into the ear of
humans and spiders and cottonwood
joy surging through the hearts of some
and not
others at times; we sigh and smile
to the content of the day
understanding the screaming
wind clearly
not aware of its
crying and leaping and growing and melting
lying sleepily in the dusk with a coke and a friend
and waking up to nothing
and watching a circus
and living life not quite to the fullest but
close enough.



Hannah Tanager

The icy cold wind races through the night and my T-shirt and
the snow falls hard onto my frozen tears and
I forget why I came and
tangled thoughts begin to sort themselves out
but I cannot help screaming out his name it sounds
so good to me
but it makes me shake
and he has left...walked right out of my life
and I stand here in the wind with
no one
my legs at shoulder width my arms wide open
screaming hoping he will hear me but he does not
he is miles away and
I am nothing to him: a little sliver in his memory
a forgotten night of passion and
what can I do but shiver and wish

A Suicidal Thought


Hannah Tanager

April Showers in like a lamb
a colorful bedroom, second story, big windows,
warm, with sunshine, but
tie-dyed shoes in the mud are happy, too
Wonder endures pessimism, but
we endure optimism
balanced scale
a flopping fish in a music video
education, English Lit., spectacles, and No. 2 lead.
105 degree December day drinking melted snow
Don't worry -- I'm there.

Thank you. Ouch.


Hannah Tanager

Through a playground of vitality I danced as a child,
twirling a
smile around a piece of bubble gum and I awaited,
innocently, the arrival of
He, with his cherub face in mirage form for human visualization
winked an eye at me from years ahead.
I tucked my innocence away (they would never know it was me
leaving the playground) and set out to travel long and far
to find him.

Tripping and stumbling, I persued the cherub. He teasing
all the while I would grow frustrated and fall from his
intended path fall
hard bleeding miserable against glass stones iscolation into
sinking depressions of marijuana, unpassionate sex, and
self-destruction, into
real world stuff I was too young to understand but too far from
innocence to avoid.

The world, lacking emotional road construction, stood by while
the locus I struggled along lost what pavement it had, lost its
dimentionality and became a directionless
spiral black sharp down...

Twisting bleeding sobbing and with open, pus-draining wounds I
fell, shaving the bottom of this
Devil's roller coaster until suddenly a
large strong hand
grasped firmly my upper arm and bruising it
ripped me from my blind destruction I looked up and saw
your face
You began bandaging my wounds lighting candles along the
carpeted hall you now allowed me to walk caressing me along the
way enlightening my soul to the kisses of the divine showing me
your grace that was that of a pegasus I would look up to see
your visage that shown from the sky as my sun I loved to see
you smile at me from up there to feel the awe you placed im my
heart your touch was celestial and I yearned for your healing
puissance. I re-opened many a wound to feel you lean down
absorb the pain until the skin was clean, and kiss me with my
own sorrowful blood still lingering on your lips. I ripped
open my own flesh to feel the ecstatic power of your euphoric
gestures and I allowed you to pull me deep into you
Melting, was I, in the relief of

But the cherub's mirage-esque glimmer soon vanished, and
I was left, staring
at you.

Without the winking gleaming presence, my neck began to
ache from
the epochs of admiration. I began to awake from
this sleep of bloom, and
my world ceased to spin 'round and 'round your face.
I lowered my head, joints astricted,
slowly opened my eyes, freshly cognizant,
like a dew rainbow upon a blade of grass,
and looked around
I saw
smiled of diversity, adorning the faces of people I'd
not before seen in light. People
who laugh exactly when I laugh who draw flowers around their
belly buttons who teach me about lightening bugs who write
poems on bathroom stalls that make you cry when you sit
vulnerable who appreciate the art of late-night conversation
above all else in the world.

As I became the one, swirled color
You and I
created in Our dreams
I had forgotten to see the shades of others. But now
as I viewed anew I saw in their colors
something I'd lost something
that had been hidden behind
the labyrinth Our souls made.

With a thousand hidden meanings my words have not come clear.
Now I make the find.
I discover the hidden and
unfold my dusty wings, that have been buried with
my innocence for so long, and,
thanking you for your smiles,
your healing,
and for showing me the grace of the pegasus
I dust of my feathers, bow,
and soar away,
crystal passion.