This poem is from my 2016 collection, Breadcrumbs, published by Indigo Dreams. I'm posting it for World Mental Health Day, with the reminder that when you've lived in a familiar situation for a long time, it can be very hard to see just how damaging it is. Also, that writing - or otherwise exploring your creativity - helps (if you're able to do that).
Headland
This
was no rupture. No sudden loss
that
left you stranded from yourself
All
the same, the land is gone
He
must have filched it with a spoon
so
surreptitiously sometimes even now
you
don’t perceive its absence as anything
more
than a tendency to dream
don’t
hear the breach filled with echoing dark,
don’t
notice you’ve stopped building boats and bridges
out
of stories
©Deborah Harvey 2016
Ouch. Spot on and sad.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Donna x
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