100 poems/52 weeks challenge’ 2018
I woke up one morning
and my heart was a fish
out of the water,
up on a weathered road with dying water.
A vapid fume of tiredness
of not letting my guilt stay.
I have a habit of taking love seriously,
gifting reassurance like a shawl
covering their ears
till their eyes are full of milk sleep–
I would often sing in long paragraphs
and could even take back
a mumble hum,
but what when
the seasons are upon them for a change?
Of loved ones without antidotes
and no water for a fish.