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Weaving

Through the Aisles

By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)Published 2 years ago • 1 min read
 Weaving
Photo by Nicolas Picard on Unsplash

Wind spoke

- Testing my strength again? -

Frozen like a bag of mixed vegetables

I look around careful that no one sees me whimpering in aisle seven

A bent old man who seems on his last breath leans way in, pulls out chicken breasts from a deep freezer

I stare at the prices pretending I am interested and hear Wind again

- You aren't stronger than yesterday, you are caught in my arms -

How can Wind catch me? It's passing, always moving: I am inside, Ignore!

The old man rolls passed me with his chicken, his hands trembling, eyes like frosty puddles

I want to stop him, hear his story, save him from the elements, the broken web of life, to rescue him: I can't do that.

Wind laughs - I will challenge you today! - Whirling around quickly there is a small boy

One small child in red with pre-made gingerbread dough

A sturdy hand yanks him away from me, away from aisle seven, zips his coat up for him

Wind bellows - That boy doesn't care about me, not like you. And that bent old man knows me so well, why he's not as weary as you! -

I press on through the tangled mass of shoppers, grabbers, talkers, laughing, happy as it's Christmas soon.

In cue I realise I have nothing in my basket, pulling my scarf closer to my bare neck I feel so fragile

Gliding doors part, I step out knowing Wind wants to tease me, test me again

I feel my body tighten, I resist the frigid morning

Wind slaps me in the face as I try to outrun myself

nature poetryHolidayFree Verse

About the Creator

ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)

~ American feminist living in Sweden ~ SHE/Her

AV

Find me: ‪@andreapolla63.bsky.social‬

FB: https://www.facebook.com/susanandreasimmonspolla

ST: https://rock63.substack.com/

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    Written by ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)