I won’t fix people

But I really want to

mend his pants.

Unbidden Flame

 

Running barefoot through the yellow-dry grass

Feelings frothing

Expanding out of self

Steam escaping in hurtful words,

Hands flying unbidden.

Often the rage comes hurling,

Triggered by nothings:

Words from a brother, 

Dismissal of mother,

Mess done by a sister,

Duty given from father.

I know how I should feel:

Thoughtful and calm, 

But the rage consumes

My eyesight and heart.

I should be able to seize it

Collar it

Control it

But I can’t.

Arriving at the edge of the field,

I scrabble with hands and feet, 

Grasping at offered knobs

Grey-rough bark finally underfoot

As emotions swirl, contorted

The tree

Absorbs these which I cannot

The only respite is out here,

The heat dissipates at this height. 

In these branches

Calm in the rough-grey

Deflate,

Fire dampened,

And descend

Walking barefoot through the dry-yellow grass.