There are some dreams
that hang in the mind
like rotted meat, foul
yellowed voices void
of mercy.
I woke up this morning
chewing on last night’s
Shakespearean
play of a dystopian king,
and pondered if there
was a toothbrush for the mind.
Growling my mood through
the early morning shadows
I found myself at my front door
staring out at the rarity of southern snow.
The white anomaly chastised my spirit
with wonder, and made me see
how the smallest sparrows were
not hindered by the powdered chill
assaulting their wings.
Providence (Mother God or Sister Resilience)
whispered, “You know the fate of kings.
You’ve walked quicksand before, and rose
when it tried to own your feet.
There have always been tyrants.
For every brick placed on your chest
you’ve found the strength to break
through their mortar.”
©Susie Clevenger 2025
