Photo taken by me in Tucson, AZ |
Dont Ask
Today I'm a snarl, a growl,
a tight-lipped frown. I'm
an ice-floe forcing new curves
in cold, winter ground.
I am sulk and pout and grr. Rrr.
I am small and I want to stay here.
To heck with vastness. To heck
with content. I am too clenched
to vent. Rather to stew, to swim
in my bile. Rather to walk
ten thousand miles in my bare feet
in deep snow and on shoes of sharp tacks.
There's a sick and sweet martyred
ring to that. There may be some
whisper inside somewhere
that says, "Open up, look around,"
but I slam the door on that voice
and turn up the sound of the static
and fuss. I feel like wallowing
in the muck. Deeper. And darker.
More dank. More foul. I may soon
laugh at this fetid mood,
but not now.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
shared from wordwoman.com
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