Turning Clock Wise

/ Liz H-H
purple violets on a black background

You left an impression,
One I can’t quite get over.
I walk miles in our footsteps
Over hill and dale, in sun and shower,
Arms locked tight about myself,
Holding you close.

The trail goes cold,
Your impression fading.
Even as I hold on tighter,
The wind blows you away,
Your salt and scent,
The snare of your rumbling voice.
That one curl of chest hair
Widdershins and wild spins away
Beneath my searching fingers.

Centering myself, I throw my arms wide,
Spin deasil with the sun,
Letting go of the old to embrace new light.

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2025)

The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: IMPRESSION. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. The Café is open. Come as you are!

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