Musical Selection: The Isley Brothers|Here We Go Again
Spring’s Mighty Grip On the Cusp of Summer
An Audio Poem
Bugs, blooms, and birds are wild
with life, each pressing through their
own way of being.
I am gifted by the heavens to
open my eyes, spread out
my arms, and let the rain wash
over me.
Chirping pummels through my
windows, louder than I can
tolerate, but the harmony
is mesmerizing.
I won't complain.
The dog and I walk around
our neighborhood at a fast
pace, picking up speed as
the wind howls on a subtle
spring day.
The sun plays hide-and-seek
with the clouds and every other
day is a race to beat the
grip of Winter while waiting
on the cusp of Summer.
"I have no fight left in me"
is what I tell a friend who
asks how I’m dealing
with death.
Death of a season
Death of a job
Death of a hobby
Death of family
Death of a friend . . .
"I have no fight left in me."
And it's part true and
part lie but she doesn't
ask a follow-up question
and for this, I am grateful.
I spend most of my
vacation time away at my
best friend’s house lulled
by nature in her
plant therapy room,
losing who I was —
finding who I should be.
I am changing with the
season and with every breath
I'm given, I look forward
to shedding this skin.
I want to see the person
under it.
I've been waiting to
meet her.
©2021 Tremaine L. Loadholt
This audio poem is in response to Wild Flower’s May the Seasons Change prompt. Thank you, Wild One for this creative space.
