Bedfast.

by Poet on the Piano   Jan 10, 2023


My body is a prison;
frozen fingertips hunch
over arctic blues -
the sun bends to coax my
spirit from the struggle,

but my bones refuse
to be warmed.

They ache, in the stiffness
of winter, in the inability
to move.

As much as I want
a taste of sunshine,
I am ambushed
the moment I challenge
inertia.

My body is a prison;
it fights against itself
as I try to not sabotage
the parts of me that are
trying so damn hard.

    report violation
4


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Weeping Willow

    Wow the ending made me take in a breath. This really speaks to the strength in still trying even when you are paralyzed and trapped. On the other hand there are parts of you that fight against that force and want to pull you back into that frigid winter all while another part is craving the sun. The duality of this is something I’ve been personally struggling with and I think you captured it here beautifully.

  • 1 year ago

    by Linda

    I relate all to well. Health, warmth, flexibility, and release to you my friend. You are very deserving of your own patience and kindness.

More Poems By Poet on the Piano

People Who Liked This Also Liked