Author: Elizabeth Maynard

There is an answer
on the other side of this:
Surrender your self

Tonight I doubt us both:
That I could be loved
That you might exist

Each living day
we pretend this
will not end

Here we are all stuck
in cars, busses, carts, on foot
waiting for big moves

The red earth bleeds now
remembering every death
unnecessary

The clouds care little for us
so many ants scurrying
in search of scattered crumbs

This constant unburdening
guilt's expiation
I have so much
the world so little

I spun all morning
to someone else's tune
until I could only curtsy
and gaze down at my feet

Fingers stumble over taught strings
hoping for familiar notes
but today I am the queen of dischord

I look for you with the name I knew
when I was a child and you my teacher
but you have disappeared since then
hiding behind another name
as women sometimes do
and so I cannot find you to thank you
for the shelter and welcome you gave
to my younger self so afraid
the world had no room for me