Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Death of A Clown

There is a clown
laughing
in the yard.
A big white dog
with a bone in his mouth
drinking down ice water from a yellow bucket.
I am in my room
drinking Kukicha tea,
trying to ward off the cold I woke up with.
This morning when the sun came in my windows
I saw it.
I felt the blue.
I wondered where I have been the last forty years,
curled up in some deep haze of hurt,
trying to control the uncontrollable.
Now, I am ready to start again,
to leave behind the past that was mine.
I am ready to find out who I am in this world,
ready to go to Portland, or New York,
or somewhere where I can be
me.
I do not know if I am the clown
in the yard
or the dog with the bone in its mouth.
I only know
to stay here
would mean death.