Could not
swallow that
Rain of truth
Cold river over chest
Shivers for frozen February
Gazing forward pointing up and out with
Stiff and frigid fingers
Trembling chafed chest
Curls tightly under white sheets
Leaning back, crushing feather pillows
Back, back, falling back in bed
Not now, for today
The foot
Touches the earth, must continue
Guides the suffocating away from home
Out the front door, away from hearth into
White February light, our guide, blinding us with water
Memories of you rise like phlegm
From warm heart cavity into the drafty air
Pain stuck in my throat
Raspy breath
Pain begging for honey to sweeten the scratch to
Coat the crusty throat that can no longer speak
To your absence.


About m.a. wood

writer, thinker, musician, teacher
This entry was posted in poem. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Choking

  1. amabear says:

    even better.

    Liked by 1 person

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