An unforgiving mockingbird song
Echoless in the dead of night
The air is stifled and still
Rain clouds, oppressive downy pillows
Weigh down
On our pin-drop silent towns
Folks tucked hard
Breath-holding sanity
Hoard it like TP
I wish I could get these clouds off of me
Tell me I’m a breathing machine
Expose the stars,
Forgive this pause
Exhale into the distancing
Own the space
Where you expel your dirty air
What kind of grounded do you want to be?
Playing in it, laying in it, complaining in it?
Taking a minute?
This stillness is a buzzing whisper
With so much to consider
Veils that muffle the murmur
Unknown trails that lead into summer
The rights you have left
The impatience and doubt set adrift
Unseen currents of atmosphere
Shifting between us
The space that suffocates
The oppression of no embrace