an unscheduled day off
enfolds my screaming body.
the mind stays strapped to
the foam of an
inviting mattress.
the soul cannot move.
I know these days . . .
mentally, I’m challenged,
and freeing myself from
the depths of this dark
space is often harder
than I’d like.
bedbound for the morning,
I watch news of Western NC
as cities lay underwater,
roads are washed away, my
friend’s brand new home
drowns before her eyes.
food and supplies have to be
air-dropped to designated
places.
“these are the last days.”
I turn over to reach
for someone to hold
and forget, momentarily,
that I live alone.
You must be logged in to post a comment.