Frogging 

Gut raw.
Bleeding emotions.
Avoiding interaction, just in case.

Feeling the aftermath of a night spent
spinning and dancing,
twisting to avoid colliding

with unpleasant things
like heat and rage
and a body invested in self-destruction,

unpicking and undoing
everything
that time and love hath made.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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House of the double-headed ax

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The peace of an outdoor cafe
is like the medicine of a cool breeze to my mind,
blowing away monsters and cobwebs,
breathing life through month-shut windows,
opening closed wide.

Outstretched and uncurled,
my legs relax –
releasing my body,
leading my limbs…

away from the tight dark centre,
the labyrinth eye –

so that they might return to whence they came
way back in the beginning,
when day was day
and night was night.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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Timeout

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Morning sunlight squeezing through shade.
A gentle breeze crisscrossing the table.
You and me sat ever so slightly apart

dissecting each other’s lives
over sleeping phones,
motionless keys
and the whisper of today’s paper.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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The Glass House

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Living in a house full of mirrors,
I am forced to confront myself
on a much deeper level,

and, while uncomfortable,
it is leading me to uncover new things.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Promise to Self

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This year, I have a list of things I intend to do
instead of avoid –
like going to the beach and swimming in the sea
and using a public swimming pool when there are other people around.

Designed to stretch me in multiple ways,
I expect to experience a plethora of days.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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This Little Light

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There is a way out of the forest;
I truly believe that.

And in the meantime,
I have my candle for light.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Baby Steps

Today, I let the sand
massage my feet
and the sea
wash the lethargy from my legs.

Later, sitting on the balcony,
my arms lift themselves
high above my head
in quiet celebration of that.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Grunt Work

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A generator’s purr
removes crickets and cars
and a man with a back bum
tears up the landscape.

I watch small children dancing
without making a noise,
and chase after lifelike toys
that scamper around on twig legs.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Grounded

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Like a bird with clipped wings
I can no longer fly

and I don’t know
how to navigate this.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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Sleeping Dogs

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Today, the vertigo is back
and my energy is flying around
like rabbits.

Gravity has become my enemy
and I cannot lie still enough.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
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