Poetry from Sage Ravenwood

Photo: Anna Atkins

What Happens in a Day

You can’t have this day.
Even with the angry overcast sky.
……….Torrential rain flooding streets,
……….slipping down wide asphalt cracks.
Or the cat showing signs of
……….fleas straddling high shelves
……….room by room as if the floor is lava.
Little mites seeking warmth and blood,
before the cold sets in.
I’ll keep the rescued eleven-year-old pup
……….who eats as if it’s her last meal and vomits.
Not every day, just today;
Like the surprised discovery of a wet hair ball
……….beneath bare feet on the way to pee.
Outside, it’s early Autumn and the grass still grows;
Refusing to let me bed the mower.
Third times the charm for an electrical outage.
Last upgrade they promised.
Liars. Everything is constantly changing.
You only get one chance at this day.
How long does it take anyway,
……….before a freezer full of food begins
……….……….to thaw,
……….……….before you can feel?
I’m asking, how does the day find me
writing on the couch, feet up
as if the floor is lava?
Years away from broken windows
……….and bones or waiting for
……….the zipper to close on a body bag.
Dreaming of days like this.
Alive.
.

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Sage Ravenwood is a deaf Cherokee woman residing in upstate NY. She is an outspoken advocate against animal cruelty and domestic violence. Her work can be found in, Grain, The Rumpus, Lit Quarterly, Massachusetts Review, Native Skin Lit, Pangyrus, UCity Review, 128 Lit, Colorado Review, Shó Poetry Journal, Nixes Mate, Indianapolis Review, MORIA, and more. Her book, ‘Everything That Hurt Us Becomes a Ghost’ is forthcoming from Gallaudet University Press October 2023.