water drizzles over slats
onto rocks
iron ivy
crawls over the lamp
I'm tired
of the restriction
of vulnerability, sensitivity,
injury
walking in the warm,
light rain
before the seasonal cold
sets in
I look out through slats
hiding or revealing myself
or you do
rocks become water
that float away
____
Tired of protecting my knees when I dance, I didn't. For a number of weeks. Bending low, I used my knees, experienced the freedom of a fuller movement, bliss. My knees are now so sore I'm on Ibuprofen, which helps reduce the swelling, constantly and a prescription anti-inflammatory, as well as icing them fairly frequently. So this poem, the first I've attempted in what seems like a long time, was triggered by that, tired of the iron ivy on the lamp, not wanting to protect one's sensitivity, and whatever the emotional corollaries are, the rocks are water that float away.
ps I think I have a 'stretched' tendon, that it's just a regular sort of minor injury anyone who participate…