deepundergroundpoetry.com
the November Sounder
a foot of snow,
some rain
descending from a cloudy sky
year-round would’ve been
easy
i could hole myself up
in a four-walled trench
and wait it
out
write letters
home;
eat 3 meals,
drink water too,
shower once;
talk myself through
the
process,
mull how clocks have hands,
the chairs backs, walls ears,
maybe stuff some stuffed
animals I’d named
in my pocket
to keep company
never again have to worry
about
a beautiful day,
a pleasant retreat,
or sunshine revealing
the only enemy I’d fought
is myself,
neither of us knowing
how to die or sure
how to live.
some rain
descending from a cloudy sky
year-round would’ve been
easy
i could hole myself up
in a four-walled trench
and wait it
out
write letters
home;
eat 3 meals,
drink water too,
shower once;
talk myself through
the
process,
mull how clocks have hands,
the chairs backs, walls ears,
maybe stuff some stuffed
animals I’d named
in my pocket
to keep company
never again have to worry
about
a beautiful day,
a pleasant retreat,
or sunshine revealing
the only enemy I’d fought
is myself,
neither of us knowing
how to die or sure
how to live.
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