Plumbed the depths
A Fibonacci poem
I
let
myself
be today
let the dishes,
laundry be soiled,
house unkempt and unorganized
I’m letting the routine slip away, no waking in time
no workout, never mind the weight loss is slow, but the strength
inside has grown, never mind the mind taken the blow
no reading, no cleaning, no scope of sanity
letting dust settle on our hopes
falling into the rabbit hole
in my country now
no turning back
we are trapped
only escape
distance
live by
solo!
©Shweta, 2021. All Rights Reserved.
Find my creative works here — Baking of Words & Muses
Author’s Note: This poem offers a brief glimpse of our chafed hearts and minds in India currently. Tired with fear looming in our hearts constantly, feeling caged, helpless and exhausted. I don’t see the end of the tunnel here, not for a while now. There is an absurd sense of time passing by, but dig deep into my heart you’ll see melancholy. A feeling like I had plumbed to the depths arouse staying in bed yesterday on Sunday, unable to get out or feel good!
