Are you freezing?
Here in the igloo.
Where it is freezing.
In the igloo.
I’d like to leave this place,
Go somewhere with a slower pace.
Climb trees,
Sting bees.
Leave everything behind.
Oh, nevermind.
The ice, the cold, the ice floor,
I very much adore.
Although, it is a bore.
I’m going to do it,
I’m going to leave.
To see my dear friend, Steve.
He lives in the south by the equator.
Where ice becomes water, so I’ve been told.
I’ll have to put my igloo plans on hold.
Listen to me, listen to me,
I’m leaving the cold for the trees.
No one responds, I must be alone.
Am I still in this ice dome?
I must go now or I will sneeze.
It is time, time to feel the ice cold breeze.
About the Creator
Carlos Mesa Pla
I am a writer.
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More stories from Carlos Mesa Pla and writers in Poets and other communities.
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When you have a godawful experience for years (perhaps French lessons) and need to write about it as part of the healing process and already you feel parts of your cognitive machinery trying to “clean it up” (guess it’s French lessons) for public viewing by default since it’s likely to make some toes curl up (sorry, but definitively French lessons.)
By The Dani Writer5 days ago in Confessions
Comments (1)
Great poem! Good job!