Roadsign
*image found HERE
Roadsign
Sometimes I worry
that your lemonade might be too sour,
that too much sugar will kill you,
that your heart
will succumb to the utterance
of all the winds that lodge
in the wheezing of your bones;
sometimes I worry
about all the boats
you forgot how to build,
that pocket watches
now merely converse with you
about wilting and passing,
that you are more fragile
than the flowers
you used to pot around our balcony
like an acrobat.
Sometimes I worry
that your clothes are too
thin for the season,
that you are skipping breakfast;
your spot at the table became mine
and each day before attempting living
I sit and gaze at our blooming birch
as peaceful as the surface of your whiskey
used to be
and I know that
if your mouth could remember words
you would tell me not to worry;
but how do I teach stillness
to a dead bird?
*For NaPoWriMo day 4. The topic for today together with the poem selected to be today’s inspiration hits a little too close to home, almost completely, so this prompt robbed me of all eloquence, hence why my entry is as plain as I barely mustered it to be.
This phrase especially grabbed me — what a picture it paints —
“all the winds that lodge/
in the wheezing of your bones;”
Well done!
personal and universal. thank you.
Thank you!
I do not see an absence of eloquence.
Thank you very much for reading, and taking the time to leave me a word of your own.
Amazing!! You are the poetess!
Thank you very much for the always uplifting words, Resa! ❤
❤
A plain way of going about can be the most appropriate to convey such emotions at times — this is beautiful in its feather-light touch and its evocative embrace, that reminds me of the kind of sadness which is somehow satisfying as well.
Yep, you got it, being slightly grateful for having a sadness to be sad about. Thank you very much for reading!