Poetry

The million year old fossils under my toes

I stand on this rock

In a grounded pose

Under the 200 year old live oak

Listening to the secrets they’ve never told

I whispered as I spoke

Of tales

No one knows

I’m like the deer

My husband says

The sounds I hear

Magnified in my head

A dangling leaf

Spinning in the wind

Caught in a spider web

Hitting the soffit tin

I turn left and right

Fight or flight

A car driving by

A bird catches my eye

My heart beats too fast

I hear myself breathing in my ears

No one’s here

No one’s here

Yet I sense fear

The dogs barking in the distance

Seems near

My toes are gripping the rock

And I nolonger feel real

I mindlessly walk

Into the house

Resting my head in my hands

I hear tick tock

Tick tock

My husband’s watch

Across the room

On Nana’s china hutch

I glance up

Her blue willow placed so perfectly

As if expecting to be seen

Nothing placed perfectly is as it seems

A green frog lands on the glass door

I stare at the crack down our ceramic tile floor

I pick at my cuticles a little more

I smell the leather from the shoes under my chair

I smell scents absorbed into clean clothes

I’ve hung out in the “fresh” air

Activating every nose hair

Of every smell that had ever been

Right there

Sensory overload

I wish no one was home

I wish I could just be alone

I wish everyone was home

I wish I never felt alone

I wish I was one of the fossils

Outside on the stone

Quietly listening to the grand oak

A million years old

Under someone else’s gripping toes.

4 thoughts on “Poetry

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