Night in the Tiny House on the Busy Road
It is just a little drum beat in my ribcage,
but it gets louder, till it fills my head.
Try to ignore it.
Breathe deeply, seven times seven.
Imagine the ocean roaring,
till I am caught up in a big wave,
till I am caught up in a big wave,
paralyzed as I go down.
It is not sea-sound, but large trucks and lights in my window.
Last week, a woman was run over five times
by five different drivers.
by five different drivers.
She had been crossing to the other side
before dawn, wearing a black coat.
3 AM in green neon digits
and a man yells “Bitch! Bitch!”
the sound of thuds, hand against skull,
then sobs that grow quieter,
as my heart gets louder and louder,
till it is my only voice
and I am convinced my husband will wake to it.
I get up and pace the hall with its rows
of ancestors watching, ever wakeful
in gilt frames.
Lucy Simpson, 1/26/2012
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Comments
♥
R+
I live on a road where I am planting trees to slow down anyone who might think my house is a drive-in. It is a fear I live with after seeing such a situation in town where an 18 wheeler went right through the man's home.
r
I love the notion of the heart becoming the only voice (I love the title, too).