caves
‘These are my caves’ I gesture with outspread arms
to the rooms where I drown, revive and drown.
Dark waters never heard low tide
Waist deep in the basement
Welcome to sludge life, baby you'll hate it here.
But look at me, trying anyway
Nothing to prove
No one to prove to
And still failing along the bell curve
of trial and error
Cataclysmic outlier.
I tuck in my corners like envelopes smothering
scented letters to nobody
Climb under myself
Perceivable dimensions reduced like sauce to resuscitate
Cocoon the bed, floor of the sea
You know where I'm at
You know where I be
It's so over; we're so back.
Dry yourself off: it's the year of the snake.
---------
Sam Woodbridge, January 16, 2025
Inspired by: Inner Acreage, by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Rebuilding a New Life
Mid-fifties divorced now married
Not the magic wand I wanted
Instead my naked hands
Tilling the new soil
Sowing the seedlings of a new life
Though I sometimes wonder why I am here
Why afraid feeling alone
Treading on shaky ground
Will I grow, emerge through the dark
And I wonder as I recalibrate
My one and only life
What will light really look like
...