Straightjacket

The nature of insanity.

She’s wandering again.

She’s off the path, in the trees, eyes down,

hair wild.

Wild.

She’s down on her knees, digging, looking under mushrooms,

finding only ants. Only ants.

 

Only an ant could carry such a heavy load.

Only an ant could balance, like a tight-rope walker,

one foot in front of the other,

(in front of the other, in front of the other)

teetering over the brink of ridiculous pants

walking the length of a tiny branch.

 

Yesterday, she pretended she was at the circus,

pacing the yellow lines in the parking lot,

tottering, muttering, holding an umbrella high with one hand

 like a triumphant declaration of intent to defeat rain.

I thought she would fall, knowing she was balancing on sanity.

I thought she would fall, collapse

there in the shade of the willow, I thought . . .

 

I thought she was gone for good this time.

They waver - trees, ant, woman. They waver.

And suddenly I am confused. I imagine.

I picture woman, balancing on tiny branch,

load-bearing ant, carrying umbrella. The rain comes!

I imagine the fall: the woman, the ant, the trees,

each dropping gently, falling eternally,

following the gentle trajectory set in the autumn

when leaves desperately seek ground.

 

The second act begins. She totters violently.

I think she will fall, I know she will fall,

but somehow, umbrella still held in hand, she descends slowly,

beautifully, and I clap wildly. I shout!

They settle softly to land. They land, fall complete. Autumn compete.

 

After dinner, I see her again, I see her tears.

She sits in front of an unfinished puzzle,

ant crossing branch, umbrella in hand

(in hand in hand in hand).

I know that there is a piece missing.

There are always pieces missing.

 

Author's Note

I wrote this under the influence of Nyquil, and I know that parts of it are better than others. Feel free to offer suggestions. Also, thanks to those who have helped me refine it so far.

Reviews

[Spat Queen]

I'm thinking what the piece would be under the title, 'Rediculous Pants'. It almost becomes a focus that lends to the sentiment in relation to ones individual perspective of sanity. What is rediculous to one person is another's "umbrella". The way a variety of things falling becomes something for 'Autumn' to compete with almost transforms the 'ugliness' of insanity into something beautiful, (perhaps). I enjoyed reading this.

[Tara]

I really enjoyed this. I often feel like that woman. I love the use of Autumn here and I like the repetition of "wild." This reads well aloud. I shall definitely read more of your work. Thank you for your review of my poem.

[Kriss]

That's intense. I like it, your a good writer :)

♥Kriss