“Ethan Memory” by Victoria Muthiani
I have a vision of my home,
Listen quietly, here’s how it goes:
Howl –
sleepy trees rustle their leaves,
They’re not dead,
they’re just asleep.
Pen on paper scribble,
My heart beats too slow,
My chest like tsunamis,
Devastation by the door.
Have you ever heard a rat breathe,
or a rat sneeze,
or heard your mothers laugh move through the wooden floor?
or perhaps wished for that one thing you could no longer ignore.
Warmth like tree trunks,
Sipping in through my front door.
don’t think too much // don’t try to ignore.
silence
slowly
slip-ens,
revealing noise of wood and things,
it can move around,
but never infringe my memories.
< coffee stains on the wall,
> coffee smells, you can’t ignore.
That feeling you get when you read your favourite beat of poetry.
//
A thousand blankets wrapped around your heart,
and your feet are never cold.
And you smile and you mean it,
and not just smile when you’re told.
And you cry and you feel it,
and not just cry cos its cold.
And in your heart you miss them,
if only you’d been so bold.
But in your thoughts your with them.
Thunderstorm nights,
Spaghetti and minced meat
Chicken wings delight,
You’re free sunshine,
Sun shine every day,
It could go on forever,
But it ends today.
Victoria Muthiani, is.