It was a long day, blazoned with hints from cumulous,
Forebodings—blackness in my wrists,
A fancy concerning self-harm—
As if customary sky may purchase
Or sell a life, in this case mine.
I’ve questions and no one to ask,
This static American business,
Bleaching yourself clear in public,
Being silent, a green chill
For a tongue. I was powerless
Today, strung across
My thirst with no one
To tell—correction—
The sun as strong as always.
Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University
