(x = space)
x
x
Day 3
x
Of an awful week
When everything still hurts
And crying underneath the skin
Wants out
x
Being ganged up against
As electrons, anyway
What they’d say for real
We’ll never know
x
Time for change
But how a change
When nearly everything
Is frozen
Like Merlin
Like Ophelia
What kind of life might
Come after
Shouldn’t be a mystery
x
C L Couch
x
x
ice on the fountain in my yard
Photo by erin mckenna on Unsplash
x
Ice Age
Nothing moving
All is frozen
There might be life in there
We won’t know until we
Excavate
I guess I’ve known people like this
I hope I don’t become one
Inside, that would be terrifying
(no fun for a claustrophobe)
I can do much with a illusion
Light, space, and motion
Eventually
It would all come through
What I’ve pretending
While the borders would come closer
And I’d need
More medication or something
Pray, let’s not be frozen
Keep it supple, keep it moving
Use whatever means
Short of murder
To chip through, if that’s all
There is to reach
The inner core
Not for samples but
(this is not clinician-speaking)
But for release
Of something real
Life through to the surface
And the light of day
Time and space to beckon
Once again
The living can respond
Then take back
And then move forward
In thawed time
C L Couch
An artist’s impression of ice age Earth at glacial maximum.
Ittiz – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9237442
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