Archive for April, 2015

12
Apr
15

boiler room

Boiler Room_DirSharp_20150412_161826

My soul made a sound

yesterday or the day before

The morning the wind stopped me cold

in the boiler room

by the window

hanging up clothes to dry

Immobilized, spooked, fearful, hopeful

I watched the leaves running

and the trees bending

Two birches and a Tamarack died

I wonder how long it will be

before they break

and who will deal with them

She is old and I am weak

in the head

in the heart

in all the places vital to

keeping a soul alive

and interested

in more than just living

I am tired

of interruptions

of urgencies

of jerks to my chains and knees

The rain is not good

for watering hopes

and floating dreams

nor does the blue sky make sense

The trash cans are perpetually full

the toilets and clothes and floors

are ever dirty

He is shiny and I am soiled

dim and numb

to the words

to break the spell

to stop the leak I sprang

while the Sorcerer was away

My soul hasn’t made a sound in years

or if it has, I can’t recall when

but I heard it then

in the boiler room

howling

I would have thought it the wind

but for the feeling:

something like painful

more like haunting

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