originally wrote this piece as prose before i turned it into a poem, i think i prefer it that way. also finished my undergrad the last day, which is nerve racking in itself !
A small dog waits outside the butcher’s door,
In a perfect world,
he would steal a string of sausages,
laughing down the footpath,
or bury a bone with his busy little paws.
But the bus pulled away too soon.
I’ll never know what kind of world it was.
All I can do is hope.
All I can do is imagine.
Summer stretches ahead, long and awaiting,
quiet days gather like dust in the corners.
In a perfect world,
I would not freeze at the front door,
my umbrella dry and unscuffed shoes.
Prolonged breaks in time and routine
are hard for me.
But I’m going to try;
buy a new journal,
open windows when the doors are too much.
Maybe I’ll see the little dog again
content and full.
I can hope.
I can imagine.
-
Saw a small dog waiting patiently outside the door of the local butchers. In a perfect world, he’d steal a link of sausages and run down the path gleefully. Or the butcher could give him a bone he’d bury with his busy little paws. I’ll never know if it’s a perfect world, as the bus passed by too quickly for me to see the final picture. I can hope, and I can imagine.
I’m up late writing to calm my nerves again. I can’t seem to hope or imagine much for myself these days. It’s difficult for me to calm myself down when months of summer are stretched before me, long and awaiting. I’m going to make a plan to fill my days; I’ll buy a new journal to celebrate graduating, and try not to worry about everything I write bleeding into a single plaster of complaint. Books can keep me company and I can maybe see the girls when they’re off working every fortnight.
Summer, or any long break in time and routine are never good for me. It’s easy to slip away into the cool of my house and overtime once I get comfortable, leaving becomes more difficult. In a perfect little dog world, I wouldn’t have the agrophobic spells that have left my winter coats collecting dust for the entirety of December. But I’ve gotten better, at pushing myself and trying. So to end this session of nerve calming, as I try to loosen the knot in my chest, I’ll look forward to maybe getting out on the bus again, and maybe I’ll see the little dog finally content.
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