After a year everything seems the same
except the light in this room keeps changing.
On sunny days it reflects from the neighbor’s
garage, so people and cars cast shadows
on the ceiling and the walls.
I live in Plato’s Cave.
Now there must be clouds moving in
to block the sun. Yes, but here it comes
again, the light on this page, and then
it’s gone. The bands of brightness
on the ceiling flash and my pencil
moves across the paper,
In the room the shadows come and go
and are your people still alright?
And have you had your shots?
Then here comes spring with plans
to travel, feel the world go warm again,
which in our case we have not got.
I have been indoors too long, alone.
But that will be my story; it has always
been my story: How I outlived the year
to see today amidst
the boredom and the horror and the glory.
J. Kyle Kimberlin
Creative Commons Licensed
Hi Andy – thanks for sharing the song. I enjoyed the overlapping voices. And you’re right, I should get down to the bluffs and see the seals. I’m spending way too much time indoors, hiding from Covid and worrying about poetry. Or is it the other way around? LOL.
The title of your song reminds me of one of my favorite Brazilian songs “Aquas De Marco”. It’s about how the nice sunny summer is ending, and the cold rainy winter is beginning (because March is fall in the Southern Hemisphere).
If you have a chance, hike to the seal preserve. I was there today, and there are over 100 of them!