More poetry from Jessica Scott
Big grey clouds are covering my skies lately. Every so often there’s a
break where the sun shines through but then,
the clouds eat it up again. I’m flailing here.
I don’t know what to do,
so all I can do is simply sit
and wait until the storm begins and, then,
ride it out.
It’s tiring, this waiting.
I try to build up a sand-bag partition because
I know it will flood
but the bags are so heavy and I tire from the work.
Besides, it’s just sand in the bags. One rip and it all washes away
and the water will still continue to trickle through. Or else,
the sand will absorb only so much of the water and then that’s it.
It can take no more.
Maybe I’m the bag of sand.
Sometimes I’m the water,
threatening to rage across the land,
devour everything in…
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