|Photograph of Florence Thompson with three of her children by Dorthea Lange, 1936. Reproduced from The Commons on Flickr with use restricted to personal, educational or research purposes. |
I move through the rooms of my life
As if in a dream, exhausted by
All those undone and undoable things
As if in a nightmare, moving through
Molasses air and endless hallways
As if my life were an inescapable burden
Placed upon my bent and broken back
My rucksack is full of food and clean water
And currency for the desires of my heart
In that rucksack is a college degree
And an embarrassment of shoes
I have five pairs of black trousers
The back of my petulance is broken with blessings.
This poem is for the Poetry Jam and for my ABC’s of Gratitude series. Almost done!