“My past is sliding down the drain;
I soon will be myself again.”
Theodore Roethke
Each moment, as a hatchling,
Altricial—then there’s light.
Blinking bowed before some God
To mind’s eye feeling’s sight.
Capitulation cast aside,
I’ll try—is that enough?
I shiver, shook from head to foot,
That’s life—its flesh is tough.
My D3 capsules, sun lamp, smiles,
Forcing my way through.
It takes more than a bit of faith
to get from winter black to blue,
So bruised, foreseen or not, you see
it aches to be this ghost.
My former self was due to die,
The new I’s time is close.
12.14.2010
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 8:20 PM UTC
“My past is sliding down the drain;
I soon will be myself again.”
Theodore Roethke
Each moment, as a hatchling,
Altricial—then there’s light.
Blinking bowed before some God
To mind’s eye feeling’s sight.
Capitulation cast aside,
I’ll try—is that enough?
I shiver, shook from head to foot,
That’s life—its flesh is tough.
My D3 capsules, sun lamp, smiles,
Forcing my way through.
It takes more than a bit of faith
to get from winter black to blue,
So bruised, foreseen or not, you see
it aches to be this ghost.
My former self was due to die,
The new I’s time is close.
12.14.2010
Request permission to use this poem