Deflated


She crouches in the dark
In the winter of her soul
And tries to pull the wool
Over her ears.

Stones fly fast and furious
Aimed with full intent to hurt,
And she deflates beneath the flow
Of pent-up tears.

There’s a pack upon her shoulders
Labeled fault and blame
And it’s filled with bits and pieces
That don’t bear her name

She tries to dodge the pendulum,
That’s swinging out of sync 
Where the only thing for certain is
Uncertainty

And her crime in life is trying
To avoid the next swing’s pass
But no matter what she chooses
She can’t get free.

The river’s running drier and the 
Clay beneath her feet
Flows in pieces of her heartache
Grasping in defeat.

And the words are packing punches
And the trees have all gone brown;
No matter how she struggles
Nothing grows

But she’s forced to bear the burden 
In a fortress made of chains
Her back pressed at the cracks where
The wind blows
 
And she tries to piece together 
Some familiar shape
But the lock won’t fit the key 
And there’s no escape.




december 2005
Janet Reid





  
Awarded by Poetic Constellations






Awarded by Poetic Constellations