and so, i wandered.
by Vikki Owens
this house became a cage,
and my heart became just a glimpse
of grime and slowed to nearly no time at all,
and so i took a leap, and maybe found my feet.
a plane took off, and i was on it,
the fear that filled me, tho it was black
it was a sonnet that started when i hit the
atmosphere for the first time in my life.
i went as far west as i could and found a city on the coast,
the sunshine reminded my bones they they are not just milk
in the midst of muscle.
the ocean reminded my eyes of the color they once had,
and the waves spoke to the forgotten ponds
in the tidewater of my life.
oh salt air, you breathed me a new set of lungs,
oh arizona sun, you were a crucible, and i both evaporated
and condensed, i am in a new state of being.
california, sweet california, the palm trees have lengthed my spine,
and your coastal highway wrote a line for me to read; you have made me literate again.
oh stars, oh sweet texas sky, you showed me more eyes than i have ever known,
oh connection to the galaxy we have both grown, you have known me, and i know you now.
my life became small, and so i expanded.
i never knew i existed. and now i live.
Posted on 10/27/2012
Copyright © 2022 Vikki Owens