Ode to O2
Sigh and seep: the night
falls into itself again in suburban Kentucky.
May has worn its way deep into my ribcage
with you, all cold–all gray. I wait
for the next day – cherish it, even,
when we don’t leave the apartment
at all for days. This is my secret to you:
I roiled and riled and willed it, still,
that we should stay alive.
22 thoughts on "Ode to O2"
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This one churns like the ocean and I love the sound of that
Thank you, Arwen!
This moves at the perfect pace. Those last two lines are perfection. Beautiful poem.
Thank you so much!
Beautiful survivor music happening here.
We must, must, must do our best to survive. <3
I felt a certain loneliness as I read this one. But what gets me is the title, the reference to Oz. Strangely, it works!
I think there is a bit of loneliness that I keep and hold onto–but we’re friends. Thank you, Lee!
Wow! Your voice sings throughout.
“I roiled and riled and willed it, still,/
that we should stay alive.”
Is a breathing sky.
Thanks so much, Coleman!
Shaun, the poem gets down to the marrow so finely
Thanks, Dr. Bedetti! It’s an earnest hope I have for all of us.
in love with sound!
Thank you, Pat!
I feel like this poem is rocking me into comfort!
I love this. Thanks, Sylvia!
Yes!
I roiled and riled and willed it, still,
that we should stay alive.
Thank you, Pam!
opening with the words “sigh” and “seep” , words sticking out like “ribcage” all tied to the breathe – life and the will to live – a wonderful ode to Oxygen.
Thanks so much, Diana!
This poem takes my breath away. So concise and yet so evocative–the sounds, the word choices. Those last two lines are everything.
Thanks, Karen. I appreciate your close reading!