Joan Dark

Poem: Saturday in January

I want to feel the wind against my face I want to feel the wind blowing against me, strong and unyielding I want to feel the wind as it pushes itself through my fingertips as I walk With the wind blowing so forcefully through my hands that it feels like I could clench my fist and hold it there And save it for a summer day When I feel like I need that strength

I want to feel my boots crunch through the snow As I go out into weather that I am definitely not prepared for With not enough clothes on and chapped lips to show it Because as much I hate being too cold Damn if I don’t love being in the cold

I want to feel the wind blowing behind my back A wind strong enough to make the signs fall off of the old telephone poles A presence that can make all the falling leaves dance like no one’s watching A gale force that picks me up off the ground and lets me fly somewhere far away Where nobody knows my name nobody calls me sir and nobody will tell me whoI’m supposed to be

I want to freeze in the winter air at 2 in the morning Feel my face go numb as I continue my slow walk under the dim streetlights I want to feel the chill in my teeth as my blood runs cold And I can barely see in front of me with my eyes watering from the cold wind I want to find a nice street corner where I can lay down for a while And hope that someone in a few hundred years can break me out from the human-shaped icicle I plan to trap myself in If we even make it that long

I want to freeze because even that would be better than coming home to you