Julie Ellinger Hunt’s poem Chewing Fruit and Legumes appeared here in April as part of Contributor Series 8: Feast and Famine. This one isn’t as playful as that, but it’s every bit as eloquent.
A Cut in the Cord
By Julie Ellinger Hunt
By Julie Ellinger Hunt
A red glow in a muggy sky
now four pm on a fall day
no need for metaphor here
the day itself has stood for enough
a car idle at the end of a driveway
not sure if you’re coming or going
I know what I need to say
but for now, my words are impotent
then, like a Trojan horse, I spill
out on the ground without warning
bits of me are everywhere and I’m exposed.
You finally see what I’ve contained
for so long. Rusted gears, torn bits of lingerie,
balled up fists, tears and grit,
versions of myself, now exhausted,
worn out pages, faded and lost,
bruised body parts, bruised pieces
of fruit, bruised egos,
banished now. Away from my core.
Running to find a new place to thrive.
Hide. Live. Multiply. And now my skin
a shell; my innards, a
newborn.
newborn.
The cord attached. I’m looking for
somewhere to free myself, nurse myself …
be myself.
The cord is still attached, yet I’m free.
Wow, a lot of food for thought here.
I agree with Bobbie.