Friday, April 8, 2011

A Poem for Poetry Month

I eat my sadness for breakfast,
Spread it on my bread like butter,
I drink it down, a bitter juice
swilling in my soul
Cutting a hole.

It hovers over me, smothering.
No welcomed guardian angel
but a constant comrade
nonetheless
as I dress.

I bind it with letters,
written in round loops of ink
Sink it under an ocean
of crossed t's and a dotted i
I sigh.

But it slips away
Smoke and fog swirls
And I breathe it in morning and night
And it weighs me down 
A corpus frown

I sink my feet into it
I put on my vest
It holds me like mud 
or quicksand or water.
Its enduring daughter.

2 comments:

  1. such a heavy sadness, miss ginger, yet beautifully put to words. here's hoping better weather brings some levity.

    i trust you've been checking out poetry friday across the interwebs? you should participate, you'd make a fabulous addition

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  2. thank you for the compliments on my paintings and talk-- it was my pleasure coming to Exeter- when i finished i was like oh oh there were so so many good things i didn't get to cover!! I wish i could have stayed

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