I can write about the light as it reflects my shadow’s past
I can write about the future as a ship with a broken mast
I’ll write to seek an answer to the question of my life
I’ll carve up my inner mind using words just like a knife.
I can write about the tree with its leaves blowing in the breeze
I can write of every reason that I’ve been brought down to my knees
I’ll write about a theory and let it float away
I’ll turn up life’s volume with all I fail to say.
I can write about the world I see before my eyes
I can write about the senseless materialistic lies
I’ll write about the inches between both of my ears
I’ll shine a focused spotlight into my house of fears.
I can write about each stone while stepping higher still
I can write about the balance at the apex of the hill
I’ll write the prose I see written on the wall
I’ll answer life’s despair by rising to the call.
Some fish swim against the stream
Some swim with it
—from Rattle #77, Fall 2022
e.c. crossman: “I live in this world. I experience it. Then I try to make sense of it. Finally, I give it my best to communicate what I’ve found to another. Poetry is the struggle to fully connect with someone else; for me that’s mostly been with myself, as I discover the breadth and depth of a life with PTSD.” (web)