Glue

by

Diane Klammer

The sun glares
Its vast orb of energy.
Mine drains into tiredness.

I trudge through
Some opaque viscous liquid
Honey orange colored stuff
Which does not taste sweet.
It sticks heavy like glue.

I feel ancient as amber,
Hard and static
With unknown bits of matter in my way.
Trappings of my life’s history float past.
I cannot retain them.
I remain stuck.

Sunshine mocks me
In my bewilderment,
Blasting its searchlight
On my suffocation.
This dragging ruins a beautiful day.

I could handle gaseous fog,
Liquid rain,
Solid snow.
Cold matches my mood.
Anything would improve this bright sun.

Others tire of hearing it
As I tire more and more
Feeling it.
They can do nothing,
Shake their heads
Walk away.

When I try to do,
I slow down
Until I am rooted
To one spot.

I recite a mantra:
I am not tired
I am not tired
I am not tired
But my body won’t listen.

The three mantras have gone away.
I am a white feather
Stuck in the glue.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Priceless moments
by: Satish Kakri
from: Mumbai, Maharashtra, India

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