Thursday, May 3, 2012

Cocoon



Air breathed in is mostly
his own exhalations.
Sometimes he rocks
or stretches the covers
so taut from head to toe
that an ant could not enter.
This is the vacuum
he prepares for himself
when outside weight
is so heavy it smashes
his guts and leaves him no choice.

12 comments:

Mary said...

Hi Judy,

I must admit I'm not sure what this poem is about...need more clues.

Lynne said...

hmmmm, let me guess, Judy. Bill buries himself under the covers, head and all, thus breathes in his own exhalations. Is the outside weight you? or Lexi? Intriguing poem.

Victoria said...

painful and challenging poem

Victoria said...

painful and challenging poem

Judy Roney said...

You have it, Lynne. Lexi nor I are the weights though. It takes something extraordinary. The first time I saw him do it was after Brian died. It usually has to do with Brian but he did it when he got the cancer diagnosis. It's rare but it scares me when it happens.Scares me in that I know what point he has reached. Yes, he will kill me when he sees this. LOL Being criptique was better. LOL

Ann said...

A shroud, a cacoon, a womb. I can see how this would frighten the onlooker, Judy.

Mary said...

Glad to come back and see the meaning. It makes sense now.

Semaphore said...

Wrapping yourself in real or metaphorical covers so you don't have to face the real world and its pain or horrors. Concise, clear, effective.

Kim Nelson said...

Oh! The depth of depression envelops this piece. One that I love lives with Bipolar Disorder, and her depressions are just like this. I understand... or have I completely misinterpreted?

Fireblossom said...

That's a bad place to be indeed, but it feels just like you described.

Heaven said...

I feel the heavy weight and onslaught of sadness ~ Hope and pray all will be fine ~

shawnacy said...

i have boys that do this. we all have to carve out space when there is no place for us. when we're breathing borrowed air.
we burrow for stillness, and to become reacquainted with the beating of our own heart.
your words allow for the loved one to create his own peace. that's no mean feat.