Hide – September 9, 2019 Weekly
Some weeks, we just want to hide. Shedding our pebbly, gray skins, we try to burrow under our covers in search of another world. Or we flee guilt and tragedy, seeking to separate ourselves from the world’s ugliness. At times, we step away from the present, sheltering within history’s bone pile. We turn our ears from the hurtful things said, or the pregnant silences of the unsaid. Whatever the cause, we remain tucked in sand, till someone pulls us out.
"Leave it for Tomorrow" by Toni G.
Maybe my responsibilities will wait for
the rain and not ruin the blue sky of today.
I want to stay in and not worry about
the many errands that need to be done.
I want to fall into an unmade bed, snuggle
deep in lukewarm covers.
"Somewhere Separation" by Rickey Rivers Jr.
Somewhere a man is hiding.
He’s missing a bullet.
Somewhere a mother is crying.
She’s missing a son.
The mother prays for his capture like one who expects the rapture.
"The Last Waltz" by Steven John
I’d drive us to visit castles or art galleries, but museums were our favourite, natural history. I’d zigzag her through the galleries of skeletons – stand up close to the great apes and gaze into their eye sockets. She said I had a childlike fascination with life. I’d look into her blue eyes and agree. She was indeed a beautiful fascination.
"keep your eye" by Mia Wright
4.
qualifier: noun. a word or phrase used to attribute a quality to another word.
i do this thing
where i add words like “little bit” and “kinda”
to my statements. it’s a coping skill.
to make me smaller. to make me feel more protected.
"Ostrich" by André N. Lepine
Then came roars
From prowling predators
Shattering the sky
With trumpets accompanying
Thunder from the truly huge
Juggernauts of life
Rumbling fear into me.