A Buddy Wakefield Tribute


Melissa Mogollon

If you ever wanna know what it felt like playing catch; this is my imposter apology letter from me to you, from green to blue. It was never my intention to use silence as my choice of words, throwing around sentiments of indifference; it’s just I could have sworn you made me a rope back there; something tangible that I could use to dance with the key to the funhouse in your brain.

With nerves and blood running vigorously carefully creating the specific message that would derive the simple words that would just make you feel alright. But I promise it’s all over now, the keys the ballads of hope, the once only branch from the tree to stubborn enough to fall off, just like the single diamond that refused to shine. No alchemist, dentist, or marine could value the way I kept your image alive.

So it goes, the slyly slippering soothing sanctions of my mind. If we are animals, truly animals, then I am your pack. And you are the river bank, filled with so much life and eagerness to satisfy that when the sun comes down and the moon comes out to play- you couldn’t help but forget your name.