By: Jane Tabet-Kirkpatrick
I wonder all the time what it is like to be still
To be tethered to the earth and not overfilled
But instead I wipe the sweat from my brow
There are things to be done, there are things to be done
I gather all my belongings as I run for the door
Powerless to stop the pining of the day –the tasks must be finished, there is so much to be done
It’s all important and it’s all not
I wake up in a dead sweat
What must be done today
What task to complete
Why can’t I be still
Where is the off switch
The emergency off-ramp from a runaway semi
Everything feels pressing, demanding, turning, stirring
It’s all coming down and the sky is on fire and there is a bench memo due
And someone was shot and someone was taken
I dream of packing away
Burrowing down
Florence was right, I should move to that house on the edge of town
Wait, someone was shot
Someone was taken
I no longer wish to be still
It’s all urgent and it’s all not.
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