Hour 2 prompt: The recipe thing. I listed my ingredients, then followed the recipe (sort of).
It’s not all I think about, but I wonder sometimes
I hope there are better times ahead
I can tell myself that the hole in the heel of my sock
means I can better feel the ground beneath my feet
and maybe that’s true
I can tell myself that a smile is a smile
even when it is hidden by one to three layers of fabric
(with or without a filter)
I can tell myself that it will be all right in the morning
if I can just get a good night’s sleep
and start the new day fresh
I can tell myself that the convulsions shaking and breaking all day long
are only a distraction
and the real news is what’s happening inside
And I can hope that I’m not the only one
to realize this
(27 June 2020)
There are so many things I like about this curiously unsettling poem: its wry humour, its poignancy. A smile behind 3 layers of fabric, the ‘real news’ inside… But I think it’s simpler: you capture in a small frame this time of immense chaos. Thank you.