Here’s my response to this week’s W3 poetry challenge. The prompt: Write a poem including the words ‘sovereign’ and ‘rights’.
You can read the full blog post here, including Amy (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris’ poem ‘Thunderstorm Magic’: https://skepticskaddish.com/2022/06/29/w3-prompt-9-weave-written-weekly/
Here goes, my take:
Before speaking I take for granted too many rights that came easy, long before breath. Debts, as yet unpaid. With my lack of lefts, I lollop, limp, keep myself upright, as best I cannot. I barely scrape the cleaner surfaces as I progress, far too scared, and who knows what lurks, once the questions start. I look, I listen, left, right, then left again, a wobble, squint. I, sovereign creature, or so I pretend as is customary, I hobble, shuffle, compensate for what I’m not, not yet and maybe never. I wait, deep into the silence of my days. I wait. Nobody’s coming. I tilt, head above heart, I straighten my spine, jerk my soul into my mouth. I spill. This is my time. Ready or not.