Friday, March 21, 2014

Nothing To Give

Artwork by~ Kenneth Jackson; Digital, 2013, Photography "Wild"

Nothing To Give

The day before had been a spring teaser of streaming sunlight
and had it not been for the cool shadows,
and faint, lingering smell of snow,
March would have seemed a distant memory
My cold fingers, hidden beneath gloves, twitched in agitation
I wanted to throw open the door of every stall
but they were not mine to set free
and how many times would I have to apologize
for something that was not mine
Shrinking into my coat, I suddenly felt inadequate and afraid
I wished for your voice...
 All that I had to do was reach out and touch
The first horse ducked his head away from me
so I dropped my arm limply back to my side
feeling the back of my throat constricting.
I continued to smile and make conversation
but I hated myself at that moment for every failure
and the hate moved me forward to the next stall
I was only alive while feeling the pain of rejection
and one by one, I walked...
stroking silken noses, bristly fur
They all wanted treats, or to be let out,
and I had nothing to give
I wished for your voice
but I have nothing to give...

Angela Minard 2014©