In the world of
black and white,
there is . . .
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Watershed
By Jennifer Howard
A drop of coolness from this well
and I will ease myself back into the desert.
I will not disturb your bland afternoon rest
with the intrusion of the nomad into your midst.
I know that I do not belong here
with you people in your ordinary lives.
Life has added strangeness that still does not mark
me to the naked eye
but like chicks before the serpent you shiver.
There's one here that doesn't belong,
and subconsciously you step aside from my path.
Let me sip lightly so as not to contaminate this
water with my stain
and stumble away from the humanity I am no longer a
part of.
Fist to mouth to drive back the hollow cry of
bitterness and pain
my grief has made me anathema to the rituals of
modern life.
Paper pushed on pen has no meaning to those who
have lost a child
let me return to my wasteland and leave us both in
peace.
Copyright©2000 Jennifer Howard