The Day Is Like

 .

The day is like

the day before

the worm arrived

in a jar at my doorstep.

Before I took the worm in

and fed it lettuce leaves and fresh water.

Before I had something to care for,

when loneliness was the largest difficulty around

and isolation pounded beneath my lids like

a cancer.

The day is tick tock and as slow as waiting

for that needed call to arrive.

I collect the noises from outside

but have nowhere to put them. I open my mouth,

but my voice has gone underground.

The sun looks in on me, but evades my skin.

I don’t hold my breath. I let it in and out.

I let the day be a blank wall.

And sometimes a day like today is like

an empty room and this empty room

is a treasure.



Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst


First published in "The Buddhist Poetry Review" 2012