Details |
Alice Zundo Poem
Sometimes I have this knot in my throat. It's not tangible but it's there.
It's like the wind. I can't see it, touch it, grab it or remove it.
But it's there, and I can always feel it. It only goes away when it wants to, with no explanation.
Sometimes it turns into a hurricane, or a tornado and it destroys much that is around.
It can be devastating.
Sometimes its so strong that it makes me stay inside my room
in the comfort of my own bed,
enclosed trying to stay away from its loud and strong whirls.
But it always peeks through my poorly insulated windows.
It seeps into my room,
and it's not always strong but it's constant.
It's a cold current that I can't ignore.
It makes me shiver and shake.
My friends don't seem to feel it in their room.
Maybe their windows are insulated better–I can't seem to insulate mine.
And the current is always lingering.
I can never pinpoint the direction it is coming from, which windows it's able to seep through. I’ve tried looking, searching for
the gap,
the hole,
the broken part of my window,
but it just all seems fine.
Sometimes the current stops, it slows down and sometimes it leaves.
These moments are relaxing, and I'm not worried about the cold shivers that I'm so used to.
I don't need extra protection or a thick coat.
But the wind always comes back, doesn't it?
It's never gone for very long.
It's addicted to me.
Or maybe I'm addicted to it.
Anyways, the knot in my throat is still there.
Copyright © Alice Zundo | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Alice Zundo Poem
And now it feels calm--
the thunder stopped,
the clouds turned blue,
the wind stopped hissing,
and the birds are singing.
It smells like sun and fresh cut grass
it feels like a warming blanket--
like a line of sun rays hitting my skin.
And I find myself smiling again,
laughing at the sky,
smiling at my phone.
But will it last?
It never does.
Copyright © Alice Zundo | Year Posted 2023
|