Laboring under layers
of grey-tinged cumulus
like descending stairs,
parallel to those above,
dirt & root vegetables--
The air is different below,
what with the low cover
& pressing down of things.
If I could only breathe--
Gotta get the hell outta here.
9.09.2012
accumulation
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how did you know how I was feeling?? HA.
ReplyDeleteI loved the line about "grey tinged cumulus like descending stairs"...when even the clouds themselves feel heavy on your shoulders.
sometimes an "escape" is really the only answer.
beautiful words for a desperate time.
Brutal(ly good).
ReplyDeleteGetting out sounds like a good idea! I like the reference to the root vegetables.
ReplyDeleteLiked the use of clouds above keel
ReplyDeleteLove the ending! Yup, time to head out.
ReplyDeleteAmazing how oppressive weather can be on the psyche. You did an amazing job of putting that feeling into words.
ReplyDeleteYes. That's how it feels at times.
ReplyDeleteI know just what you mean about air pressing down on the head at times- humidity is the pits! Hope your day is sunny now.:)
ReplyDeleteYour poem cinched it for me: I pledge not to let winter get me down this year ( I plan on escaping to warmth, beach, sun)
ReplyDeletegood idea, just get outta town :)
ReplyDelete