Before speaking, by Britta Benson

Photo by Jens Johnsson on Pexels.com

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.