With The Wind Not Stirring At All

(A summer poem written in February, on the eve of my 23rd birthday.)

It’s difficult to know
How long I’ve been lying here.
I’m outside in the sun
But I can’t breathe.
I keep turning over
For a different view.
Fence, grass, sky.
A plane travels slowly across the blue.
So fast, and big,
It crawls along
Silently.
With the wind not stirring at all
I feel like I might disappear;
Melt away into the ground
Of this quiet garden.
The bright, hot light
Beating down onto my face.
I keep my eyes open
Until they water.
I’m not crying.
I’m not anything.

(The title is a line from ‘So the Wind Won’t Blow It All Away’ by Richard Brautigan.)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s