Writing Fairytales in the Far Too Real
The sun is blind
and the moon sings
arias to my curtains.
I wish I knew where
I crawled through the mirror,
but exits can knife when
reasons don’t matter.
Pandemic visions worry
my madness until the voices
in my head reach the
noise of my tongue.
Isolation, the grit of must,
gives me too many hours
to pimp introvert to extroverts
who hate spending time
listening when they are
hungry to speak.
Does anything make sense
when half the population is brave enough to nest
while the other half insist on their right to roam.
I’m here in the where I should be.
I’m a sister to Alice and a cousin
to White Rabbit….
Time is too much in the fear of too little.
It is frustrating when half of us are staying inside and the other half is not, putting so many in danger. In B.C. we are seeing some response to our staying indoors........it is the only way to keep the numbers at all manageable because they double every four days, which is horrifying. I cant believe what we are living through. Glad you are staying in, and safe. I am too.
ReplyDeleteOh, sad protagonist .. and brilliant last line.
ReplyDeleteThe pandemic clearly has us all on the edge, hoping against all odds that this too shall pass. This poem is beautiful in its sense of ache and sensitivity!💘
ReplyDeleteYour last line resounds, Susie.
ReplyDeleteThe opening stanza grabbed me by the throat and spoke to me, Susie, and I love the references to Alice in Wonderland, a fitting analogy under the circumstances. You’ve expressed my thoughts perfectly in the lines:
ReplyDelete‘Does anything make sense
when half the population is brave enough to nest
while the other half insist on their right to roam’.
Susie- Your frustration is all too palpable. Every day I voice to whoever listens, why aren't people taking this seriously? So well done with the comparison to Alice. One of your best.
ReplyDelete