by krstaten

But what if it’s neither
calm nor cacophony?
Wind, children’s voices,
cars, squealing breaks,
muffled by ice-coated
windows, punctuated by
bare tree branches scratching.
Some things still stand
from months before;
a Christmas tree in
February, dead flies
on the blinds, Halloween
decorations with no
cupboard to belong to.
Neither peaceful nor
violent, only out of place.

Give me sounds I can cling to.
Sirens, horns, screaming,
the neighbors fighting again–
“Get out of my apartment, get out
get out get out get out get–”
Or else, give me a softer breeze,
kids on the playground, swings
creaking under their weight,
rain, if it was warm enough.
Let me beckon spring with flowers
in the sills, fruit on the kitchen
counter, open windows to clean by.
Or else, let me dress my home
in mourning–black drapes for the
afternoon, silence, a sink full
of knives, anything familiar.


–From Prompt 19, here.