POEM: Clinging

Sometimes life feels like
sitting in an over-air-conditioned theater
on a sweltering summer day
having forgotten to bring a sweater
watching a horror movie
that raises my hairs on end
and my shoulders, neck and jaw
are whipped to a frigid froth of tension
more caffeinated than a frozen frappe,
but remaining seated
caught up in the plot
and dreading the heat outside,
even though the warmth
would soften the tight chill
and the trees would give
a sweet dappled light
above me as I would lie on the grass
and let myself melt into the earth
and listen to the birds, the creek,
people talking as they stroll by,
settling into the lull
until the cool of the evening
would wake me.
- Stephanie Noble