{"id":95913,"date":"2021-06-26T19:37:46","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T23:37:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=95913"},"modified":"2021-06-26T20:39:53","modified_gmt":"2021-06-27T00:39:53","slug":"the-first-step-when-falling-in-love","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/the-first-step-when-falling-in-love\/","title":{"rendered":"the first step when falling in love"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>she packs yellow in her pockets<br \/>\nin case she has the chance<br \/>\nto scatter sunshine<br \/>\nlike butter on <strong>sourdough<\/strong> toast<br \/>\nwatching it <strong>spread<\/strong> like the wildfires in the woods<\/p>\n<p>the lemony hue <strong>needles<\/strong> its way through the linen<br \/>\nsoaking into her skin<br \/>\nwhere her <strong>periwinkle<\/strong> freckles welcome it;<br \/>\nopposites on the color wheel<br \/>\nspinning together<br \/>\ncomplimenting complements<\/p>\n<p>this is what falling in love looks like<br \/>\nnot practical or prepared with <strong>gumboots<\/strong> and an umbrella<br \/>\nbut capricious,<br \/>\nskipping along<br \/>\nsinging a new and pleasant canary-like song<\/p>\n<p>there&#8217;s a new <strong>beat<\/strong> in her heart today<br \/>\nfor she met a <strong>forest ranger<\/strong><br \/>\nwho is not a wolf<br \/>\nand is not afraid of her penchant to burn<br \/>\nand who drinks sunshine<br \/>\nlike she carries in her pockets,<br \/>\nthe kind you can&#8217;t get at any old <strong>storefront<br \/>\n<\/strong>and certainly not on a day with <strong>clouds<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>this is not the love of fairy tales<br \/>\nwhere the kiss is shared at the top of a <strong>skyscraper<\/strong>,<br \/>\nno<br \/>\nthis is the love that leaves a trail of daisies in its wake<br \/>\nflowered crumbs to find her way into the forest<br \/>\nnot out<br \/>\nwhere she checks her pockets and finds<br \/>\nyellow exactly where she put it<br \/>\ndripping now like honey from her fingers<br \/>\nfor<br \/>\nshe is her own forest ranger<br \/>\nin her own forest<br \/>\nscattering sunshine because she can<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>she packs yellow in her pockets in case she has the chance to scatter sunshine like butter on sourdough toast watching it spread like the wildfires in the woods the lemony hue needles its way through the linen soaking into her skin where her periwinkle&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":803,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,1136],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-95913","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-official-marathon-prompts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95913","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/803"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=95913"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95913\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":96587,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95913\/revisions\/96587"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=95913"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=95913"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=95913"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}