Charles B. Snoad

RECOVERY

it’s like wearing a hat all day
and then taking it off at night
something in me is missing

I feel the brim just above my eyes
the tightness clinging to my head
my hair curling up along the sides

but my head is bare now
it lies alone upon the pillow
sensing a lack it cannot grasp

we take comfort in the forms we assume
they get us here and there
but are you really comfortable in your skin

when I reach for what’s known
I encounter vague amputations
as if my legs have disappeared

disengaging from my battered torso
walking out the back door
a ghostly figment of my mind

I’m left with the odd reality
that my life will now require
days upon days of painful crawling

we take comfort in the forms we assume
they gets us here and there
but are you really comfortable in your skin

hatless leg-less how shall we continue
beyond our broken selves
how do we recover from loss