#poemaday — Public Fediverse posts

Upstairs

sometimes I live a little too much upstairs
and by upstairs I mean
in my head

It’s been years since I listened

to that song
I’ve wondered what it was called
or how the chorus went
the words were fuzzy like mittens
in the back of the closet
what was crystal in my mind
was the way I felt
belting it out as I drove
with the windows down
and the wind carrying away the pressure
to be accurate so I could focus
on pouring out what was bottled up
I knew from the guitar and the choir
clapping the beat
just before the first words
dropped from her mouth
that I was going back to My Church
and I was singing along with a friend
I’ve never met

Milestone I wasn’t aiming for

for the first time in weeks
I spoke about her
without crying or even
tearing up
I was aware of grief as a friend
occupying a guest bedroom
and though the creaking floorboards
told me they were moving about,
I was not seeking them out,
I was waiting to talk to them
when they came to the kitchen
to share a meal and an embrace
for the first time in weeks
I spoke about her
without having to shut the door
on a blizzard of emotion
or be buried in three feet
of grief, isolated by a barrier
which risks life and limb
to cross and which risks
insanity if one succumbs
and stops struggling to get out

For a moment, this is all there is

time isn’t real
in the way that when you focus
on the sunset
everything else drops away
and the only thing you’re thinking
about is how pretty pink is when it’s fading
into orange and how if you reach out
your hand, the little clouds
would feel like cotton batting
and the purple drifting off to the side
would melt in your hands like cotton candy

Reading the amazing collection "You Better Be Lightning" by poet Andrea Gibson.

From "Home Sick" (read the whole thing at https://andreagibson.org/homesick-a-plea-for-our-planet)

If we aimed to be just half as good
as one of the earth’s mistakes,
we could turn so much around.
Our living would be seed, the future would have roots.
We would cast nothing from the garden of itself.
and we would make the thorns proud.

#poetry #poem #poems #PoemADay #TodaysPoem #AndreaGibson #Earth #future #science #eco